She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
by xMissCatastrophe
Summary: Max tells Fang that she no longer has feelings for him, but for Dylan. Fang leaves, tormented, and Dylan finds himself worrying about Fang...Fylan in later chapters.  Fylan Fang Dylan. If you don't like it, don't read it.  T for language.
1. Prologue

**Fang**

Everything hurt. I was flying at an unbelievable speed, the rain burning my face. She didn't love me. It wasn't me. It was him. It was eyes burned as I held back tears. Lightning pierced the sky and I shuddered as thunder rumbled thoughout the night. I'd always been terrified of storms.

Lightning struck again and thunder shook the ground as I landed, stumbling from the force since I'd been too distracted to consider speed. Distracted by my fear of the storm and the aching in my aching chest. The way I'd landed caused me to fall mid-stumble, basically falling facefirst into the cave. I received a mouthful of dirt and rock. I didn't care. I started a fire in the back of the cave and curled up in a corner, drowning in fear and heartbreak. The first sob that escaped my lungs was involuntary and I hated it. After that, I just let it go. Every time the cave shook, I sobbed harder. The storm was just getting worse and worse. Eventually I fell asleep, but the pain in my chest never subsided. "Max," I choked out, a scared whimper as I fell into my dreams, a world without pain.

**Dylan**

Fang had practically flung himself into the storm when Max told him that she didn't want him anymore. "I came back for you, I risked _everything_ for you, and this is what you do to me?" He'd cried, voice faltering. "How, Max? How do you just suddenly not feel?" Then he'd left before she had time to respond. It was obvious how much he was hurting. I hated myself because I knew that it was my fault. What wasn't my fault?

After he left, Max locked herself in the bathroom and only let me in after much pestering. When I was in with her, she began to cry, telling me that if he'd just flung himself into a storm, he was gone for good. He had a phobia of storms, I guess. "I didn't want to hurt him." She hiccuped and whimpered, her tears finally ceasing. I only held her and stroked her hair. I didn't know what to say.


	2. Worry

**Fang**

When I woke up, the sun was shining at the end of the cave, and my fire's embers were crackling quietly. I yawned, realizing that my throat was on fire. I was parched and covered in dirt. My eyes hurt, too, since I'd rubbed them so much. A rock was digging into my hip and when I rolled off of it, I lifted my shirt to find a large gash on my hip from the stupid rock. I sighed. I needed a hotel. I did have a wad of cash in my pocket that I'd saved up from my side job as a mechanic. It was a few thousand dollars (I was good at saving money and good at hiding it).

It only took me about two minutes to stretch out my sore muscles. As I unfurled my wings, I walked to the end of the cave and took off to find a hotel.

I quickly came acoss a decent, cheap hotel. "Are you alright, sir?" the receptionist asked timidly, looking at me up and down. She was in her early twenties, maybe. Cute.

I gave her a sad smile and nodded, trying to be convincing. "M'just tired." It wasn't a total lie. Sleeping on hard rock for seven hours wasn't exactly something that helped you sleep. She handed me my key with a genuine smile and told me to feel better.

My room was actually pretty darn clean-looking, all the sheets and blankets a pristine, crisp white. There were no stains anywhere. Hard to believe how cheap it was. The first thing I did was shower, and God, it felt great. It was warm and enveloped me in a tight embrace. It didn't remind me of the rain. Rain was cold, unwelcoming, cruel. Showers were comfort. I made sure to clean my cut out, though it stung badly. I didn't need an infection.

When I got out of the shower, I felt kind of like crying again. But I wasn't about to give in, not after my two hours of gut-wrenching sobs. If there was one thing I hated, it was feeling weak. Actually, there were two things I hated: feeling weak and Dylan. If I ever saw that kid again, I was going to snap his filthy neck.

I didn't feel like wearing my dirt-stained clothes, so I just pulled on my boxers and clambered into the white bed. It was soft, warm, welcoming. The way Max's arms used to be. My eyes burned and a single tear slid down my cheek as I laid down. Curling into a small ball, I realized that I'd feel weak even if I wasn't crying. I felt pathetic, worthless, useless. All I did for Max was cause madness and problems. She was better off without me. What had I ever been to her, anyway. No, I knew what I was to Max.

I was Max's favorite mistake. That's all that I ever was to her.

I shivered. I missed her so bad. There was still a pain in my chest that refused to go away. The pain was starting to eat a hole through my chest. "I miss you. I wish you'd understand that he isn't good for you, not like me.."

**Dylan**

I surprised myself by being worried for Fang. We all were, though. He was only seventeen, for crying out loud! Plus, he'd just had his heart taken out of his chest, stabbed with daggers, stomped on with soccer cleats, the works. You can't tell me that you wouldn't worry for someone if that had just happened to them and then they just flew away.

When I asked Max why she picked me over him, she only shrugged and said, "You and I are the perfect match. We were created for each other."

I disagreed.

I really didn't like that she was pretending like it wasn't a big deal. I really didn't like _her_ lately. She and Fang had been fighting left and right. She had always started the fights. They were always _her_ fault. But she blamed him. Every time, she blamed him. And he actually _took_ that from her? I didn't know him too well, but anyone who was around him for more than five minutes knew that he didn't take shit from anyone. But he'd let Max walk all over him. Honestly, she treated him like stairs. Stairs, and nothing more. I mean, I didn't particularly like him, but she'd been treating him like shit and then turning around and being all, "Oh, Dylan, I love you so much," to me while he just sat silently and observed.

That was what Fang did best. Observed.

No matter how much it hurt him, no matter how much it disgusted him, he'd watch us. Maybe he was placing himself in my shoes. Which would have been fine with me, because I was really annoyed with Max in every single one of those moments. If she wasn't a girl, I'd have hit her. Or maybe he was just watching, just observing, just being Fang. His cool black eyes never really gave away much emotion unless he wanted them to. I hated how hard he was to read. Angel told me once that he's so reserved sometimes that he's hard for her-a mind reader-to read.

The guy was weird.

I suppose that I really didn't have a reason to not like him. He never said much to me (but then again, he never said much to _anyone_), he had never started the pointless fistfights we'd gotten in-those were all me or Max. Mostly me, though. He had plenty of reasons to dislike me, even hate me. But I couldn't think of even one reason to hate him.


	3. Dylan's Outburst

**I apologize for the shortness of the chapters, but they will get better soon. c: I have some of the story mapped out, so updates should be pretty frequent. Rates and reviews are greatly appreciated. :3**

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><p><strong>Fang<strong>

The next day, I decided to stop moping around and get out, do something. So I went back to my mechanic job, to focus on cars, focus on something that wasn't Max, something that wasn't killing me more and more every second. There were only a couple in that day, though, with simple fixes. I was done quickly.

Even after only two simple fixes, my hands were almost covered with grease and black gunk. I felt grease on my face, too. I was wiping my hands and face with a dirty red bandanna when a familiar voice asked from behind me, "Excuse me, but does Fang still work here?"

Why was that voice familiar? I turned halfway around, not looking at the person as I spoke flatly, still scrubbing grease off my hands. "In the flesh." I let no confusion leak into my reply. It was emotionless.

When I finished wiping my hands off, I turned all the way and saw none other than Prettyboy in front of me, leaning against the garage's doorframe. He was dressed in semi-tight jeans and a navy blue v-neck with a white zip-up hoodie over it. Shockingly, it was a normal hoodie and not one of those top-dollar Hollister ones. Upon the sight of him, a deep growl rose from my throat. "What do you want, Dylan? Did you come to rub it in my face that Max is yours now?" I snapped coldly.

He flinched. "No. I'm not, actually. I've been worried about you, believe it or not. Max has been treating you like shit lately and blaming you for everything when it's usually _her_ fault. She started basically all of the fights. Dude, you flung yourself into a storm the other night! Your _worst fear_. I just wanted to know that you were okay. I know you want to wring my neck, but I had to know that you were alright."

It was the longest speech Dylan had ever made to me. Instead of acting surprised like I actually was, I laughed without humor. "Shouldn't it be obvious that I'm _not okay?_" I hissed at him, wanting to lunge forward and snap his pretty little neck.

Dylan blanched. "At least you've had people around you who love you. The..other me..died in a car crash. At least you're actually human. I'm a clone. A clone that's supposed to be 'perfect' for Max. And honestly, I'm not! I'm not good for anyone! Sure, yeah, she loves me, but I don't really feel the same!" he shouted, hands turning into fists. "At least you can be happy."

I let my shock show. He didn't love Max? The guy was one hell of an actor, then. My slack jaw regained control of itself and I forced myself to say, "Dude, I didn't know it was like that..I'm so sorry..you know that you don't have to be with Max if you don't want to." I dragged a hand through my inky hair and blew out a long breath.

He shrugged. "She'd be too hurt. I don't love her, but it's not like I don't have a few feelings for her..I can put out just a while longer."

I couldn't believe it. Dylan, suffering for the happiness of others? That was almost as ridiculous as me crying in front of someone. "But you should be happy. Just because you're a clone doesn't mean you don't matter.." I felt so bad for the guy. I never realized how hard it really was for him to be around Max, pretending to love her in that way.

"Yeah, well, you're the only one who seems to think so. Angel keeps my thoughts between us, thank God. She says I should just suffer because Max and I are 'perfect' together. She tells me I'll be happy at one point. I just don't see myself being happy with Max, you know? She's not the one.." He looked exhausted, face pale and distraught.

I felt so awkward in that moment.

A customer popped his head in the doorway as I opened my mouth to reply to Dylan. I sighed. "Hey, meet me at the hotel a couple blocks away at six. It's when I get off work. We can talk more then. Okay?"

Dylan nodded promptly, then spun on his heel and walked out coolly with his hands in his pockets. I sighed, dragging another hand through my hair. Wow. That was a trip. "Alright, how can I help you, sir?"


	4. Sorry I'm Late

**Dylan**

I was running late. It was 6:10 and I had just barely escaped Max. I hadn't let any thoughts about Fang out, so Angel couldn't tell her what I was doing. Max thought I was shopping. I'd get some groceries on the way back to seem somewhat convincing. We needed food, anyway. I walked outside, unfurling my large brown wings. It felt good to stretch them out. As I shot off into the sky, I estimated I'd be to the hotel around 6:20 or 6:25. I hated being late, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Oh, well.

I felt awkward keeping it from Max that I was going to see Fang. Generally, I told her everything. To me, she was more of a close friend nowadays. Sure, at first, I'd been obsessed with her. I remembered being unable to get her attention and attempting suicide. Anymore, I just didn't feel like her "soulmate". Over the course of two years, I'd learned much more about her than I'd ever really wanted to know about anyone. Even then, it didn't feel like I knew enough about her to be in love with her. "Do you want me to come with you? Ig can stay with with Gazzy, Angel, and Nudge," she'd offered when I said I wanted to leave for a while and go shopping.

"Uhm..not really. I just need some time to myself. Ya know? It's not you. I've just been thinking," I explained briefly, stroking a lock of dirty blond hair behind her ear.

Her brown eyes sparkled sadly. "Do you want to talk about it, Dylan? Are you okay?" she asked quietly, hugging me around the middle, placing and ear on my chest, listening to my erratic birdkid heartbeat.

I smiled, stroking her hair gently and holding her with my other arm. "I'll be fine. It's nothing too big. I'll be alright. Promise." _Yeah, nothing too big, just that I'm leaving to hang out with your ex._

She sighed, falling silent for a few minutes, still listening to my heartbeat. "Alright. If you say it, I believe it." She leaned up and kissed me softly on the lips, smiling. I kissed her back gently, lingering for a moment before I pulled away to leave. She tasted like strawberries and smelled like the ocean. "Hurry home," she said softly before I shut the door.

No, I wasn't in love with her, but I wasn't playing her, either. What I'd felt at first was mere infatuation, not love. I'd been obsessed with her. No longer was she the object of my unsurpassed worship, but a simple crush. Honestly, she was more like my sister than anything. Though I would not deny the fact that she was gorgeous. Because she was exceedingly beautiful, her long, messy hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her figure was lovely, too, a nice hourglass shape. She was covered in scars, and sometimes in public, if she pushed her sleeves up, people would stare. They varied in size and shape. Some were jagged, some were straight. Some long, some short. I didn't care. Max was beautiful in her own way, even if other people didn't think so. She was one of those people who downgraded themselves on their looks.

She refused to believe that she was gorgeous, no matter how many times I told her. Once, I'd told her that she was beautiful and slipped a finger under her chin and kissed her. She had stood there, pecking me on the lips. When I pulled away, she'd glared at me. "What?"

"You're lying. Stop lying to me, Dylan."

Rolling my eyes, I pulled her into my arms. "Not lying," I murmured, lips at her ear. "Truthing."

She let out a small laugh. "Is that even a word?"

"Only in my world," I replied, smirking.

She grinned up at me, hands on my chest. "I like your world."

I sighed as I flew over buildings, searching for the hotel. A couple blocks from the mechanic's shop. That was what he'd said. Surely enough, there it was. Standing tall and proud. I landed on top of the building then took an obnoxious number of flights of stairs to the main floor. Fang was sitting in one of the red, expensive-looking chairs in the lobby, gazing up at the ceiling, deep in thought. His dark, mysterious eyes were revealing nothing, as usual. I approached him slowly. "Hey," I said quietly.

He averted his gaze slowly from the ceiling to me, just staring at me for a minute. "Um. Yo." He gave me an awkward up-and-down before he stood, like he was making sure that I was Dylan.

I realized that I was a little taller and bulkier than him as he stood. Huh. I thought he was taller than me, for some reason. "So," I started casually, leaning against the chair he'd been sitting in. "I think we should get a, well, more private place to talk. I don't like how open and empty this place is."

Fang stiffened. "Not my room."

I gave him a look. "I wasn't suggesting that we go to your room. I meant a place to eat, or something. I'm starving."

He relaxed a little, though his jaw was tight. I wondered why he was so tense. Probably it was because he was going to be hanging around me for a while. I'd be tense, too, if I were in his position. "Oh, alright. Uhm, where do you want to go? I'll buy." He put his hand absentmindedly in his pocket, staring somewhere past me. Jeesh. He needed to loosen up a little if we were going to get along.

"No, I'll buy. You had to wait on me. You can pick the place."

He shrugged. "Alright."


	5. He Had Nice Hands

**Dylan**

The first few minutes at Olive Garden were very awkward. A tall waiter named Roger led us to our table and gave us menus. He had brown hair and was balding, with these creepy yellow-brown eyes. He speculated everything in its complete detail. Which didn't help Fang and I with our awkwardness at all. As he walked away, we picked up our menus in unison. I smirked behind mine.

We were silent as we chose our drinks. I decided on a Coke and browsed through the menu, not really looking at the selection. I was more focused on how awkward this was and why we were here. I decided on chicken parmesan since that was the first thing that really popped out at me. When I set my menu down, I did it quietly, and looked up to see Fang sitting silent as ever, picking at his lip with two long, scarred fingers nervously. His eyes were emotionless. Like always.

"What are you having to drink?" I asked quietly, staring at him from across the table, one hand still on my menu.  
>He flinched, as if I had shouted or smacked him. His black eyes snapped up to mine. "Um, Coke," he replied, fumbling with his fingers. It was the first time he hadn't made eye contact with me and actually looked..uncomfortable. "And you?" His eyes were on mine now.<p>

"Coke," I replied lamely, relaxing back in my seat. I let out a long breath and picked at the table.

Roger approached the table about thirty seconds after that, whipping out his nifty little pocketbook. "What can I get you guys to drink?" he asked in his deep, precise voice.

I held up my first two fingers. It would have been a peace sign any other time, which is probably why he gave me that weird look. "Two Cokes, please."

He scribbled down our order quickly and walked away without further adeiu.

I looked over again to see Fang half-relaxed-which is the most relaxed anyone had ever seen Fang-into the seat of the booth, staring at me. "You okay, dude?" I quipped, lifting my eyebrows at him.

He lifted his gaze to the sparkling chandelier in the center of the room. "Yeah, I think. This is just a little awkward for me, ya know? You don't exactly make me feel" -he met my eyes- "comfortable."

At this point, he was starting to freak me out a little. I shifted uncomfortably, his gaze piercing me, pinning me to the booth. Probably that wasn't his intention, I was just starting to feel his awkward vibes. "Oh, yeah, that's fine. I wouldn't be comfortable in your position, either."

To my surprise, he mustered up a very faint half- smile. "Would anyone?"

I grinned at him. "True."

Roger came back then, setting our drinks down. "Are we ready to order?" he asked, his creepy eyes flickering back and forth between Fang and I impatiently. I ordered first. "Can I get the chicken parmesan?" I asked politely.

He didn't reply, just scribbled down my order and looked up at Fang like he was someone who needed to be punched. "What about you, emo kid?"

Fang glared at him menacingly. I made a mental note to not piss him off. That look was death. On a silver platter. "I want two orders of spaghetti." Each word was venom. It didn't so much as faze our waiter. He merely scribbled and walked away. Fang growled as he retreated.

"What an asshole," I mumbled, taking a sip of my Coke.

Fang laughed curtly. "You were practically batting your eyelashes at him. Is that a technique? Maybe I should try it sometime," he joked, the ghost of a smile on his full lips.

"Oh, it works everywhere. It's called being polite," I said with a laugh.

He smiled just barely. "I don't believe that the word polite is in my vocabulary. Hold on, let me check my mental dictionary."

Grinning, I asked jokingly, "Oh, what's that consist of, four whole words?"

With a very soft chuckle and a sip of Coke, Fang fired back, "Nah, two. Get it right next time."

For someone so apathetic, he was a lot of fun.

**Fang**

I noticed after I was finished eating my two plates of spaghetti (I eat like a cow and Dylan eats unbearably slow) that Dylan had really nice hands.

I know, it sounds creepy. But he has got these hands-they aren't scarred. They're perfectly sized and not all scarred like my own. I wished that I had hand like that. Instead, my hands were large and clumsy and scarred to hell. Dylan's looked gentle and soft-they moved gracefully over his food and the way that he held his fork and knife was practically perfect. He had lovely etiquette without even trying to. I glanced down at my hands. They were ugly. I had a huge scar over the back of my left hand (which was my writing hand) and a ton of little ones all over my fingers and palms. Years of fighting mutations that the School sent us had made my attractiveness drop..if I'd ever been attractive.

"What are you doing?" I heard Dylan ask.

I looked up to see him staring at me with a blond eyebrow raised. I glanced back down at my hands, then back up to him. "Just looking at my hands." Figured I'd be honest.

"Your hands?" His eyebrow hitched amusingly higher, almost reaching the top of his forehead. His turquoise eyes glinted. He was amused by my fascination with hands. Now he was going to start teasing me about it.

"Yeah. I, um, like hands. Yours look soft," I said stupidly.

_Why did you say that, you blithering idiot? Dear Lord, Fang. You really are completely stupid._

Dylan laughed. "They look _soft?_ Good God, you're weird. I guess they're soft. Do you want to feel them?" he asked teasingly, extending a hand to me.

My eyebrows furrowed together, confused. He was serious? "Uhm. Sure..?" I placed my hands around his gently, stroking the smooth skin gently. His hands were extremely soft. "Damn. You've got the softest hands I've ever felt," I admitted bashfully.

He was gazing at his own perfect hand between my flawed ones. "Thanks," he said quietly. Then his blue eyes met my black ones. He was happy. I could read him so easily. "Oh, uh, Fang? You've got some..sauce..on your face.." With that, he grabbed his napkin and leaned over the table, wiping the side of my mouth.

Now I was the one raising my eyebrow. "Hey. I'm not a kindergartener. I can wipe my own face. After all, if anyone was wiping anyone's face, it should be me to you. You're the younger one here," I teased. I felt a small smile plague my mouth.

He blushed and sat down. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's just, Max never lets me do anything when she gets stuff on her face. I had an urge. Sorry, dude."

"Dylan. I'm not mad. I'm kidding!" I exclaimed, punching his shoulder from across the table and sending the remnants of his Coke all over. My face flushed. Smooth move, Fang. Quickly, I took care of the mess with my napkin. We both bursted out laughing.

"You're much more of an idiot that I would've ever guessed," Dylan admitted between laughs, elbows on the table.

I smirked. "That's who I really am behind my quietness. It's why I avoid talking. I turn into a moron and a raging klutz. It's embarrassing. Oh, by the way, I have a room key for you, in case you want to get away from Max or whatever. You can just come pass out in my room." I handed the key over the table to him. "Room 233."

He stared at the key for a minute, then looked back up at me. The pools of blue were swimming with happiness. Do blondes really have more fun? That's what it seemed like. "Geez, I don't even know what to say. Thanks, dude. I really appreciate it."

I waved a hand at him. "Don't mention it."

**Dylan**

I have to admit, that was the most fun I'd had in a while. Unfortunately, I got home at ten-thirty..and forgot to bring groceries home. I knew I was in deep shit when I saw the look on Max's face. "Where have you been?" she shrilled, fists clenched at her sides, wings ruffling angrily.

I backed up to the wall with my hands raised. "I surrender! White flag! Back down! I was just chilling alone. Like I told you. I needed some alone time. I forgot the groceries, alright? I'm sorry."

She backed off. "Oh. That's alright, then. C'mon, watch a movie with me," she requested, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the couch as if nothing had happened.

I was starting to get really sick of her.


	6. The Dinner Mistake

**Fang**

I wasn't sure how I felt about being friends with Dylan. He reminded me so much of Max, but then he didn't. He was like Max, but he was Dylan enough to not be exactly like Max. And I liked that.

I worked from six to eight hours a day, which got a lot off my mind. It paid well, too. When I wasn't working, I was walking to Starbucks, random restaurants, fast food places, etc. The most talking I did was when I ordered food or bought stuff.

Today, I was buying stuff.

My hotel room wasn't all that expensive, so I didn't mind that at all. I still had tons of money. Anyway, I needed some more clothes. I'd only bought two outfits, and they just weren't cutting it. So I went where everyone goes for their clothing-Walmart. Ah, yes, I know, it seems ghetto. But hey, it was clothes. Comfy and cheap clothes. I bought three pairs of jeans, a black v-neck, two normal black t-shirts, and three fresh pairs of boxers. Finally, I could change out of these clothes. God, I felt disgusting.

I looked over to a rack of white t-shirts and automatically thought of Dylan. I smiled to myself, shaking my head. Saint Dylan, always wearing white. He was like an angel (only, with brown wings instead of white) and I was like a big demented potato. I wished I was more attractive, like him.

_Um, woah. Did I seriously just think that? _Yes, Fang, you did. It's perfectly okay to think that other men are attractive. _How so?_ Because you're ass ugly. _Oh, right._

_Okay, stop having conversations with yourself, seriously. It's starting to be borderline insane._

I rolled my eyes at myself. Dear lord, maybe I was insane.

A few girls walked by me and giggled. "Hiiiii," a perky blond said to me loudly, waggling her fingers and winking at me. My face flushed and they all laughed. "You're cute!" one of the blond's friends shouted.

I smiled fakely at them and waved. "Hi," I mumbled.

They kept on walking, giggling and turning back to look at me. My face was still hot. That was the extent of my interaction with other human beings-well, besides Dylan, anyway. I might as well be invisible while in public. Funny, considering I can turn invisible if I stay still long enough. It's a birdkid thing. Don't question it.

I paid for my clothes and left the store. Then, my stomach decided that it was suddenly going to implode from food deprivation, so I went to McDonald's and ordered three Big Macs and two large fries. With a Coke. When I said three Big Macs and two large fries, her eyes got gigantic. When I added the Coke on, I think she died. She kind of just stood there and stared at me in awe for a few seconds. "_Please?" _I quipped sarcastically.

She punched in my order and I paid. It's not my fault that birdkids have a huge appetite! Actually, it's more a bird thing than a bird_kid_ thing. Birds actually eat a lot, despite the saying "you eat like a bird" when someone doesn't eat much.

Anyway.

I flew back to the hotel quickly, doing my best to not be spotted, so that my food didn't get cold. Cold McDonald's was nasty.

Cowing my food down in a matter of about ten to fifteen minutes, I realized that I was really tired. The clock read 6:13 when I checked it, but then I realized that I didn't need to check the time if I wanted to nap. I could nap whenever and however long I pleased. No one was going to suddenly need me, except for maybe Dylan, but he had the room key. Knowing that, I passed out comfortably.

**Dylan**

A couple days after Fang and I went out, the flock was a happy group of people for once since he'd left. Max, as usual, was just freakin' peachy, which didn't really shock me, but Angel was a little brighter, Iggy cooked way better, Gazzy..was just Gazzy, but happier. And Nudge was back to her nonstop babbling.

There was no denying the fact that Fang leaving had affected everyone. Especially Max, whether she showed it or not. Angel and I had discussed it before-Max missed him there. Plus, my secret about him was safe with her. I trusted Angel. She was one of the closest to me in the flock, besides Max.

Iggy was making a dinner of lasagna (don't ask me how he does it all by himself, the guy's just a great cook despite his blindness) while we all chatted at the table. By "we all", I mean Nudge.

"You know, guys, I think I wanna go to the mall soon. I desperately need these leopard print stilettos I saw online. Oh, and I really, _really, REALLY, _super bad need that life-sized Lil Wayne cutout they have at F.Y.E., ohmygawd, he's delicious. Oh, and Max, did I tell you that the new Justin Bieber cd is out? I am _so _excited to listen to it! And-"

"Nudge," I said loudly from across the table, holding up a hand. "Seriously. I think we've heard enough. We'll all go to the mall tomorrow," I promised, smiling and putting my hand down. Sometimes, her incessant babbling gave me migraines.

She smiled back at me, flipping her long hair out over her shoulder. "Alright, Dylan! Oh, can we pleaseplease_pleaaasseeee_ stop at the pet store on the way there? Please, oh, please, Dylan?" she pleaded, giving me puppy eyes.

"Ohhhh, I want a kitten!" Angel exclaimed, clapping.

"Or we could get a cute little puppy since Total's gone with his wifey now!" Gazzy suggested, wings flaring out excitedly, nearly knocking over a vase.

Max sighed. "Children! Calm yourselves! We aren't getting any new pets! You guys can look, but we aren't getting any new pets. Dylan and I are the only ones who would take care of them and you guys know it."

"Maximum Ride, crushing children's dreams since 1994," Iggy remarked with a smirk on his face, pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

Max grinned. "I'm grinning, Ig. That smells great, by the way."

Iggy shrugged. "I am the master cook. Now, where are the hot pad thingies for this baby..alright, they're yellow..no, that feels green..ah, there they are!"

Without even thinking, I said quietly enough so that only Max could hear, "You _are_ the Maximum Ride."

I really wished that I hadn't said anything.

She slapped me across the face, hard. "DYLAN! YOU DISGUSTING PIG! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT AROUND CHILDREN THAT ARE NINE AND ELEVEN? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" She was scary Max now, wings unfurled and ruffled at the top like a disturbed cat's fur on its back, brown eyes gleaming with that scary homicidal look. I thought that the lights might blow out. Honestly, I was kind of scared to say anything.

My face whitened. "I..uhm..uh.."

"AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DEFEND YOURSELF! OUR BEDROOM. NOW."

Everyone in the room stifled their giggles and snorted. Even Iggy. Judging by the smirk on his face, he'd heard my comment.

I ran to the bedroom and she trailed behind me scarily, closing the door once we were both in the room. I sat nervously on the bed and she stood by the door, hands planted firmly on her hips, glaring angrily at me. I gulped. Nothing could be scarier, ever. (Except maybe Fang this angry. That would be terrifying.) "What in the name of God were you thinking? They probably heard you!" she hissed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think, I, uhm, I..I don't know, it just kinda..slipped out.." It was the truth.

Max's stature didn't soften, but her eyes did. "Oh," she said flatly.

"Yeah."

"Well, we should get back to dinner, I guess.." She felt awkward now. I wasn't good at reading people, but I knew that she played with her fingers in awkward situations or when she was nervous.

I grinned at her. "Or maybe we shouldn't." It was true that I didn't love Max, but I did have some feelings to her, like I've said before. So, yes, I did like her, just a little bit.

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"C'mere."

She walked to me slowly and cautiously. I stood up and kissed her softly, wrapping my arms protectively around her. We pressed our foreheads together and her chocolate brown eyes sparkled happily. She wasn't angry at all anymore. "What are you suggesting, Dylan?" she asked, giggling. Her gaze wandered slowly to the bed and she bit her lip adorably. "Not..?"

I shook my head. "No. Not tonight. I thought we could just be alone, eat when everyone else is asleep?"

Disappointment washed over her face. "Oh. Okay. Some other time..?"

"Maybe."

"Agh, fine."

I kissed her again and we stayed just like that for a while, holding each other and mumbling about things that didn't really matter.

So I couldn't decide if I was tired of her or not. Big deal, it's a teenage thing. Right?


	7. Catastrophe At The Mall

******A/N: I keep forgetting to put in Author's Notes D: Anyway, I really liked this chapter, and I think you guys are going to love the next one. I think I'm going to try to do Fang's POV through the whole thing and make it long-ish, since I haven't really done his POV as much as I have Dylan's. R&R please? :D -throws cookies to reviewers- Love you!**

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><p><strong>Dylan<strong>

The trip to the mall was pure chaos.

The kids were adorable and begged us for a new pet at PetSmart. "But guys! The kittens talked to me! They want to come home with us! I swear to God, Max!" Angel shrieked as Max rolled her eyes.

"No is no, Angel. No kittens today. C'mon, we're leaving now," she said quietly, pulling on Angel's small hand.

Angel hung her blond head and walked-well, more like shuffled-out of the store with us, glaring at us with one of those _I hate you for doing this to me_ looks. "Aw, come on, Ange," I pleaded, kneeling down to her level. "Cheer up and I'll buy you that stuffed zebra you've been wanting," I promised, elbowing her gently in the ribs.

She grinned at me sheepishly, hugging me close. "Oh, fine. Only if I for sure get that zebra."

"But of course, little Princess," I growled in her ear playfully, pressing a kiss against her springy blond curls before straightening and taking Max's hand again.

"I wish I knew how you did that," Max grumbled, gripping my hand tightly as we crossed the road. Ig had his finger in my belt loop. I cringed inwardly, remembering that he used to do that to Fang when we would go places. I wondered if he was thinking of Fang..

I shook myself mentally. "I'm good like that," I remarked cockily, winking at her.

Her face flushed greatly and I found myself smiling. "Oh, you are good, stud muffin."

I nearly fell over. "Stud muffin? Did you seriously just call me a _stud muffin_?" I shouted, clutching my stomach as I laughed. Iggy stopped walking and started laughing, hands braced on his knees. Nudge snorted, which left Gazzy and Angel staring at us like, _what?_

"Max, what's a stud muffin?" Angel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ye-yeah, Max," Ig choked out between laughs. "En-en-enlighten us."

Max herself was in the middle of her own fit of laughter when she shook her head. "N-no-nothing you hav-have to wo-worry ab-about!"

Ange just shrugged and smiled pleasantly, like, _alright, whatever._

After we all regained our composure, we resumed walking, a couple late giggles escaping all of us. We kept getting weird looks from people and I realized that it was a nice day; their windows were down.

"I'm almost embarrassed," Max admitted when we got to the mall, leaning against me as the rest of the gang flew (not literally, of course) into the mall.

I sighed, stroking her hair. "I should be the one who's embarrassed. I'm the 'stud muffin'."

She grinned, shaking her head and pushing off of my chest to walk into the mall. The flock was just inside the door, waiting for us. I noted that Nudge was holding Iggy's hand and smiled to myself. I couldn't decide whether it was a sibling-like thing, or if it was an attraction thing. _They'd be a cute couple,_ I decided absentmindedly.

"Alright, team. Dylan and I will go that way. The rest of you get fifty bucks each, meet us back here in an hour, we'll get food then," Max instructed, using her loud leader voice.

"Perfect," said Iggy. He gave a noticeable squeeze of Nudge's hand. I thought for a moment that it was definitely a sign of affection, but then I realized, Iggy normally squeezes peoples' hands. It's like he wants you to remember that he's there, as if you've forgotten.

We split up quickly. Max and I started walking, hand in hand, hands swinging. "I promised Angel I'd get her a stuffed zebra. We should go look for it," I said slowly, glancing at her. "What say you?"

She shrugged. "Fine by me. Where should we look?"

"I dunno. Let's go look at all the girly-whirly stores." I squeezed her hand affectionately, like Iggy had done to Nudge, smiling down at her. She was the Max that I actually liked, the Max that I could get along with, the Max I liked to talk to. Not bipolar, weird Max. She was _my_ Max.

Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable calling her that. "Alright," she agreed, squeezing my hand back.

We walked slowly, just feeling the warmth, the pressure of one another's hand, enjoying the feeling of being somewhat alone. It gave both of us some time to think clearly, minds not focused on eighteen things at once. The silence was strangely comforting. One of the things that I really liked aout Max was that she usually knew the right thing to say at the right time.

"Dylan," she started quietly, "I miss him."

I sighed, but not loud enough for her to notice. "I know, love. I know."

"He was my best friend. He was my companion, my go-to, my shoulder to cry on. And I messed all of that up. All of it. He's gone. He's left me again."

Time for me to know the right thing to say.

"Well, that's what I'm here for. I was here when he left the first time and I'll be here now."

She smiled faintly. "Uhm, Dylan, there's something I should tell you."  
>I looked down at her. "Yeah, Princess?"<p>

"I'm, well, uh, Fang-"

"Hey! Catch that kid!"

We jumped, looking over to see Gazzy being chased out of a store by two security guards.

Max groaned. "Of course. Now we have to leave. What'd he set on fire now?"

We caught up with Gazzy and straightened the cops out. They agreed to let us go without charge if we left immediately. So we did.

Angel was upset that she didn't get her zebra, but she had bought enough for herself to not make a huge production out of it. Nudge had too many bags that she couldn't carry (turns out, Iggy had given her his money since he didn't want anything). Ig was carrying some of them while they held hands.

And of course, Max, Gazzy, and I had left without anything.

As we were leaving, I looked around and thought I saw Fang. My gaze lingered on him for a moment, and I realized that it _was_ Fang.

I rushed the flock outside quickly.

"You guys go home. I'm gonna get Angel's zebra. I'll meet you home later," I told them.

They all nodded. Angel hugged me. "Thank you, Dylan!"

I stroked her hair. "Yeah, sure, Princess."


	8. The Cramped Couch

**A/N: Just to let you guys know, I'm not typo-ing Angel's name, I'm meaning to put Ange. It's like her nickname, right? I just like the way it sounds in my head. Anyway, enjoy the first Fylan chapter, my beloved readers! -throws cookies-**

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><p><strong>Fang<strong>

The flock. They were at the mall.

I froze. Totally froze and gawked like a complete moron. Thankfully, Dylan spotted me and hurried them out before any of the others could see me.

Once they were gone, I let out a long breath and slumped against the wall coolly, hands in my pockets. I felt kind of defeated. Although Max and Dylan had been together prior my spaz-out and leaving, it had just hit me hard. They'd been holding hands. Exactly how she and I used to hold hands-her on the right, me on the left. Only, it was her and Dylan, not her and me. It all felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Max was supposed to mine.

So it really was over.

Dylan came in about thirty seconds later, rushing towards me. "You," he pointed his index finger at me, "are so goddamn lucky that they did not see you. Why did you just stand there? Did you want Max to see you and break down in public?" His turquioise eyes flared angrily.

Damn. Someone was pissy. "Oh, chill out, Dillweed. You had to do a double take on me anyway, so I doubt they'd have known it was me at a glance. Calm your balls."

"Still," he said, hands on his hips. I almost laughed.

"Sorry."

"Anyway. I didn't just come back for you, so don't feel all high and mighty. I owe Angel a zebra. She didn't get her kittens, so I'm being forced to get her a zebra." He talked fast, like he was in a rush, and he was sweating as if he were nervous.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You alright?"

"Fine. C'mon, help me look for this thing."

"Aight."

We started walking, walking in silence for a few moments. But Dylan wasn't as comfortable with silence as I was. "So, have Iggy and Nudge always had that..that thing?" he asked, cracking his knuckles.

Max had always told me that I'd get arthritis when I was old because I cracked my knuckles so much. I wondered, as I watched his flawless hands, if she scolded him for it, as well? "What 'thing'?" I asked, making a face.

He glanced at me. "You know. The thing. He gave her all of his money today so she could blow it all on designer clothes. And he carried the bags she couldn't. And while they were hanging on hands, he squeezed her hand a lot. It's just something I noticed."

So he _was_ observant sometimes.

"Ig normally squeezes peoples' hands, dude. As for the rest, that's kind of unusual, I suppose. Maybe they're developing feelings for each other," I suggested, heading into a girly store. Ugh. It almost hurt to stand there. Everything was this _pink_. I almost barfed on the spot.

Dylan immediately headed for a huge rack of stuffed animals. "Oh. D'you think Ange would like this?" he asked, turning to me with a zebra that kind of reminded me of Winnie the Pooh. It was a plush backpack.

I knew that she'd love it. It was an Angel thing. "Oh gosh, yeah. She's always wanted an animal backpack. How much is it?"

"Erm.." he fumbled for the tag, perspiration thickening on his forehead. "Twelve bucks."

I nodded. "Alright. I'll buy it. I take it she knows about me already? Of course she does. Angel knows everything. She's kept it to herself, yes? Oh, and could you tell her that I bought the zebra? And that I love her?"

A drop of sweat dripped past Dylan's temple. What was his issue? I wiped the sweat droplet away with my thumb as he nodded. "Dude, you sure you're alright?" I asked again. His gorgeous blue eyes met mine and he nodded, leading me to the cash register.

_Woah, hold the phone. Gorgeous blue eyes?_

I shook my disturbing thought as we exited the store. "Dude, tell me what's wrong. Please. Did something happen with Max? Are you sick? Or am I just making you uncomfortable? Because I totally get it if I'm making you uncomfortable. Just te-"

"Max was trying to tell me something but she got cut off. And I don't know what she was going to tell me and I'm kind of..sweating it, if you will," he said quickly, laughing without humor at the end. To be honest, he was kind of freaking me out. I didn't really know what to say.

"Yeah, you're _definitely _sweating it," I replied, giving him an up-and-down. "Don't die on me. Please. You're my only friend and without you, I'd probably fall to pieces."

_Even though I fall to pieces every night. _I don't neccessarily cry, I just lay in bed, flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, tearing myself apart. I thought about her kisses, her big, sparkly brown eyes, her laugh, her wings and how they'd always ruffle in her sleep. I thought about the time we made out in the desert and I'd seemingly made her brain shrink. I thought about her getting jealous of Bridget Dwyer, getting jealous of Lissa. I thought about her kicking Eraser butt and her hot temper.

Sigh.

Dylan noticed me gazing off into space and snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Did you hear me?"

"What?"

"I said, I'm here for you."

I smiled faintly. "Thanks," I said quietly, pulling him into a really awkward hug. I kind of hadn't thought before I acted for once. My arms were around him, feeling the hardness of his wings pressed tightly against his spine. My head was in the crook of his neck. I think the most awkward part was the fact that he was taller than me, and I felt like a girl. He stiffened at first, but then eased up a little and hugged me back.

"This," he whispered in my ear, "is really awkward, since we're in public."

I laughed, pulling away from him slowly. I felt a not-so-subtle blush rise to my cheeks. Why was I blushing so bad..? It was just a hug.. "Oh, well. I think that's the first awkward moment I've ever caused," I admitted.

Dylan grinned adorably. "Better than me. I create so many awkward moments it's not even funny."

I grinned back. "I guess I should get used to that, then."

He smirked and checked his cell. "Ah, hell. It's seven. Iggy will have made dinner already. I gotta run. Gotta get Ange her zebra and make sure Max doesn't have a panic attack and think that I got molested by a whitecoat or something," he said more to himself than me.

"Iggy makes a great mother," I remarked sarcastically.

Dylan laughed. "Yeah, he sure does. Anyway, I gotta go..see you later. I might stop over later tonight with some food or something. You down?"

"Down."

**Dylan**

I showed up at Fang's hotel room around eleven. Everyone was in bed, so I snuck out the window.

But when I walked in, Fang wasn't there. "Fang?" I called stupidly. I'd already checked the whole room. Was he just going to suddenly appear? I felt like an idiot. I kept looking around myself, making sure he wasn't directly behind me waiting to hug me again. Eventually, I gave up, so I plopped down on the couch in the room and watched TV. It was Spongebob. The only reason I realized it was because it was Gazzy's favorite show. I found it pretty amusing at times, so I settled for Spongebob.

I couldn't remember when I fell asleep.

**Fang**

I woke up to see Dylan passed out on the couch. When had he gotten here? Huh. Had I been asleep? Why hadn't he awoken me?

I laid in bed and watched him sleep.

He looked so peaceful asleep. His blond hair was tousled and I had an urge to get up and run my hands through its silky strands. His mouth hung open just slightly, no drool coming from it. His brown wings were wrapped around him and his white sweatshirt was at his feet. I wondered if he'd gotten cold. His long eyelashes that framed the lovely pools of blue were almost brushing the tops of his cheeks. I guessed that he was having a good dream, because he smiled a little and nuzzled the couch. Then he shivered and whimpered. _Oh, screw it, I'm not going to let him freeze._

I saw that it was 2:13 a.m., but realized that it didn't really matter. It was still dark outside.

As I clambered out of bed, I realized just how frigid it was. God damn. Originally, I'd planned on just giving him the blanket and then falling back asleep, but hell, it was _cold_. I didn't care that it would be awkward when we woke up. I needed warmth. I climbed subtly onto the couch with Dylan, cuddling close to him and putting the blanket over the both of us. He shivered a little, so I wrapped my black wings around him and watched him sleep for a while longer. He truly was a gorgeous man. I traced the lines of his face, memorizing every little thing about it.

I fell asleep tracing the shape of his soft lips.

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><p><strong>:oooooooo Does Fang like Dylan a little bit, do we think?<strong>

**If this chapter gets, eh, I don't know, 5 new reviews before I start writing the next chapter, I'll make it longer. I'd really love some new reviewers (not that you two or three aren't lovely, but I'd like some fresh opinions), so ask your friends to read and rate? It would be greatly appreciated!**


	9. Mild Attractions

**Dylan**

I wasn't expecting to wake up with Fang's finger pressed ever so gently on the corner of my mouth, or with his black wings around me, or even sharing a blanket and snuggling with him. Where had he been last night? I wanted to know. Right now, he was snoozing peacefully, his lips just barely parted. His warm breath tickled my face. The hand that wasn't touching my lip was on my chest.

It was the most at peace I had ever seen Fang.

The set of his jaw was gentle, instead of tight and stressed. He looked as harmless as Angel, which is something I thought I'd never say. The feathers from his wings were around his neck, all fluffy and downy. I felt a strange sense of..security in Fang's wings, which I didn't understand. When had he gotten home and why had he decided to cuddle me on this cramped couch?

He stirred, face screwing up, a sign he was about to open those unrevealing, empty black eyes. He took the hand off my lips and rubbed at his eyes with it. I dare not breathe. He yawned softly, and opened his black eyes, automatically meeting my blue ones.

For once, I saw a flash of something in those dark, unrevealing, apathetic eyes. I didn't see confusion, I didn't see wonder, but I did see a tinge of happiness.

Fang was happy to be around me.

"Morning," he said pleasantly, relaxing into the two inches of couch and frontside of me.

"Morning," I said, probably not as quickly as I should have. "Where were you last night?"

He gave me a _what? _look. "I was here. I was on the bed. Asleep."

"Then why couldn't I find you..?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "I..oh, yeah! I can turn invisible if I stay real still. I must've been invisible. Sorry."

He was starting to scare me by being so chipper. "Oh, okay."

That was when I realized, _shit, it's morning._ Max. She was probably having a panic attack right now. "Oh, hell, Max is going to kill me," I groaned, rubbing at one of my eyes.

"No, she won't. Just call her and tell her you went to go fly and didn't have the energy to fly back, so you got a hotel room. It's not a..total lie," he responded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"I guess that that would work," I replied, feeling around for my cell. Somehow, I managed to squeeze it out of my pocket with Fang on top of me. He was kind of heavy.

She picked up on the first ring. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

I cringed. Scary, bipolar Max. "I'm at a hotel. I decided to go for a fly last night and checked into a hotel because I was falling asleep mid-flight. I would've called, but it was, ehm, late."

She let out a big breath. "Alright. Okay. Come home soon. I love you."

"Love you, too."

She hung up.

Fang had frowned when he heard Max's voice, and still was. I wondered if how much he missed her. "You miss her a lot, don't you?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged. "Yeah. But, I mean, I'm getting over it. Slowly. I..I still feel kind of empty, but I'm so numb anymore that I can barely feel anyway. It's not like no one's cared about me before. My parents obviously didn't care about me, so why would I-should I, even-believe that anyone else would give a damn about me?" He blinked rapidly, and it was obvious that he was trying not to cry. He breathed slow and deep.

I realized then that that was why he was so quiet. Fang truly believed that no one cared about him. "But your mom, she was too young to have a kid, wasn't she? So she gave you up for adoption. I think she would've kept you if the time was right. But it wasn't." I stroked his cheek gently with my thumb. "I know that Max and the flock care about you. You're like their big brother. Max thinks of you as a brother and loves you that way, too. Isn't that enough?" I knew exactly how he felt.

"Do you care about me?" he asked in a small voice.

I blinked slowly, registering his question. The way he'd asked it almost made it sound like he was asking if I cared about him..but not in a friendly or brotherly way. The question had definitely thrown me off guard. I just took it as a brotherly type of care. I didn't really want to make this situation any more awkward than it already was by taking it the wrong way. "Of course I do. I'm your friend, why wouldn't I care about you?"

He shrugged, looking sad, and his reply avoided the "why wouldn't I care about you?" part of my question. "I've considered suicide so many times, Dylan. I think, honestly, you're the only person that can ever know that, because you can relate to it. I just..I hate being without her. I just wish.." he paused, staring hard at the couch cushions. "I just wish I had another chance. A chance to do something right," he choked out. "But I can't, Dylan! I can't do anything right! It's like I was programmed to be hurt and hurt everyone around me constantly!" He pulled at his hair, tears trailing down his face. "I just wish I was lovable."

Surprisingly, I didn't feel awkward practically cuddling a guy. A shattered guy whose wings I was wrapped up in, whom I was sharing a blanket with. That didn't matter. None of it did. I didn't care that it'd be awkward any other time. I wrapped my arms around him, comforting him. I didn't say anything else, just laid with him and held him close to me as he cried.

Eventually, he fell asleep again, face pressed into the now-wet fabric of my white t-shirt.

I kept waiting and waiting to feel awkward with a male pressed up against me. But I didn't. I almost felt like I was cuddling with Max, but at the same time, I didn't feel like that at all. It was this whole different thing. It was like when you feel a certain way but have no name for it. That was how I felt.

I had my cheek pressed against his soft black hair and one arm around him. My free hand stroked his night-black wings. They were strong and soft and I shoved away the urge to nuzzle myself into them and sleep. As the morning sun bled in through the window of the hotel room, I noticed that they had a purple-blue tint to them.

He stirred in his sleep, groaning and ruffling his wings. He didn't wake, though. I realized how young he looked while he was asleep. Max never looked younger in her sleep, but Fang definitely did. He was always tensed up and radiated this message by his body language: Leave me be. I am not open to conversations with strangers.

Yet, asleep, he looked so young and fragile and vulnerable.

**Fang**

So Dylan had seen me cry. Big deal. At least he knows I'm human now.

Well, ninety-seven percent human, anyway.

I found myself pretty embarrassed when I woke up, curled in his arms. But I liked it. His arms felt strong and muscley. He was solid in all the right places. I remembered last night and how I had memorized the patterns of his face. My eyes weren't open, but I could tell that he was asleep, too. His chest moved in sync with his breathing: slow and deep. Plus, he was snoring quietly, which was kind of adorable. I then decided that I needed to figure out whether I was attracted to him or not. I remembered thinking that he had gorgeous eyes, that he was adorable, etc, etc.

So, I decided that I was..mildly attracted to him. Not that I'd ever admit it.

I opened my eyes and admitted to myself that I sort of liked the way that his brown wings clashed with my pitch black ones. _If only they were white. _Somehow, I thought he'd look stunning with white wings. I realized that I was hungry and thought that he would be when he woke up, too. So I very slowly and gently unwrapped his arms from me and my wings from him, doing my best to not wake him. I stood in front of him and smiled at his peacefully sleeping form and silently left to get food.

I decided to bring back a huge takeout breakfast from some nice restaurant. I wasn't entirely sure what he liked, so I bought some hot sauce, cheese, ketchup, and jam for the eggs, hash browns, and toast. I hoped he liked breakfast. If not..I'd probably eat it. At least he'd like the bacon..right? I mean, who _doesn't _like bacon?

When I got back, he was sitting up on the couch, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning with his mouth wide open. It wasn't one of the most attractive things I'd ever seen, but it made me smile. "Hey," I said casually. "I got breakfast. You like eggs, right? 'Cause this baby's loaded."

He smiled sleepily at me. "Hell yes. I haven't had what I want for breakfast in weeks. What all's in them?"

"Four pieces of toast, a shit ton of eggs, hash browns, and a ton of bacon. I also bought hot sauce and stuff because I wasn't sure what you liked on your food, but it's what I like, so I kinda just bought it," I replied, getting all the stuff out and handing him his styrofoam box.

"I like all that stuff!"

"Awesome," I replied, opening my box. Steam rolled out at me and I got a huge whiff of ungodly amazing food. I almost moaned. "God, eating this," I said, pouring hot sauce on my eggs, "is going to feel like one big sin."

Dylan laughed and reached for the hot sauce. I handed it to him. "I couldn't care less if I was sinning or not, I'm hungry. Good God, it smells wonderful."

"I know, right?"

We chowed, shoving forkful after forkful in our mouths, groaning with every bite.

"You know," Dylan said behind a mouthful of egg as he spread jam on his toast, "if we hadn't gotten plastic silverware from the restaurant, we'd have been so screwed."

I grinned, swallowing my toast. Remarkably, Dylan was almost done and I was lagging behind him a little bit. All he had left was toast and bacon. I still had some of my eggs left along with my toast and bacon. Good job, Dillweed! "That's so true. I didn't even think that we might need silverware. God, I'm an idiot when I'm in a rush."

He laughed. "It's alright, I bet I'm more of an idiot, I am blond!"

I snorted. "Angel's the most intelligent child I have ever met and she's blond! You stereotypical bastard," I joked.

"That's me."

I sighed. For a while, it had felt so nice to actually have someone to be around and to talk to and vent to. He had no idea how much I appreciated it.

But he had to leave now.

"Fang," he said, closing the takeout box. "I've got to go or Max will seriously flip shit."

I frowned. "Okay."

He looked at me, eyes swimming with concern. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. But you have to promise to come back soon.." I didn't mean for it to sound as obsessed girlfriend as it did, but that's the way it came out.

He gave me one of those looks that people just give you when you say something completely stupid. "Of course I'll come back. You know I'll come back, Fang. Just chill it out, alright? You might want to go to work, though. It's getting around that time."

I shrugged. "Nah. I'll call in sick."

He smiled a little. "Alright, well, if you need anything, call me."

"Alright."

And he was gone.

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><p><strong>AN: D'awwww, he's mildly attracted to Dylan! I love this chapter so much :D**


	10. Waffles and the Great Virgin Drama

**A/N: Boys and girls, I just gave you a 2,374 word chapter. Bravo to me for starting to write longer chapters! :D Keep reading, R&R please? :D I love you guys! Cookies for everyone! -throws cookies everywhere-**

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><p><strong>Dylan<strong>

The aroma of Iggy's blueberry waffles captivated me as I entered the house. I sighed. It smelled so good. Seriously, Iggy's waffles are the best thing in the world. I don't know what he uses, but damn, are they wonderful. Hey, maybe I'd have one. And burst from being so full. That breakfast that Fang had gotten was pure heaven and sin all at once. "I'm home!" I shouted, closing the door, cool November air being shut out behind me.

Max came almost out of nowhere and was suddenly hugging me tightly. "I was so worried about you," she mumbled into my chest, nuzzling me. My arms automatically went around her, stroking her soft, speckled wings. I shuddered to myself as I remembered Fang's wings wrapped so tightly around me.

"Shouldn't have been. I was completely fine," I assured her, giving a small squeeze.

She smiled and grabbed my hand. "I love you."

As we walked into the kitchen where the rest of the flock was, I smiled fakely and said that I loved her, too. Inwardly, I winced. I hated saying that, because it wasn't really true. And I hated knowing that it wasn't true. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. I almost groaned. Life sucks, especially when it involves love. I knew that I was programmed to love her, and I could feel that I was supposed to, but I just..didn't. I'm guessing I was just poorly programmed. Like some kid's science fair project he did the night before.

I did like Max a lot, though, so I dealt.

"Hey, gang," I greeted everyone as I sat down.

Nudge smiled at me over the top of her magazine. "Yo, Dylan. You eat yet? Ig's cooking up a storm of waffles," she informed me, giving Iggy an adoring look before returning to her magazine.

"Er, yeah, actually. But hey, I'll eat me some of Ig's waffles. Well..one or two. Big breakfast," I said slowly.

Iggy groaned, wiping his hands on the pink apron Nudge had gotten him for his birthday. "You suck for that. I should fill yours with battery acid and jam them down your throat," he joked.

Max glared at him. "Ig, if you kill my boyfriend, I'll kick your sorry butt into next year."

"Oh, chill out, Maxi-Pad," he retorted, carefully setting down the last of the waffles onto a paper plate.

Her eye twitched, which meant she was annoyed. "You're lucky I love you, pyro."

He grinned lopsidedly, setting down the plate almost perfectly at the center of the table. I really wanted to know how he managed doing everything better than me..blind. But I am a klutz, so I suppose that might contribute to my inability to do anything completely correctly.

Everyone grabbed for food except for me. They were like hyenas fighting over food, which was actually really amusing and also how they acted at every meal. It was then I noticed that Angel wasn't at the table. "You guys act like you've never eaten before. Oh, where's Ange?" Now I grabbed a waffle, nibbling on the corner. It smelled so great. I attempted to take a big bite and could barely swallow. Ugh. I was _still _really full.

"Oh, shoot, she's in her room! You wanna go get her for me, love?" Max requested, shoving all waffle to one side of her mouth and talking around it. It was actually kind of cute.

"Yeah, sure," I replied easily, dropping my waffle on my plate and going to her room. I knocked on her pink door. "Hey, Ange. Breakfast!"

"Oh, come on in, Dylan!" she exclaimed.

I opened the door to see her sitting cross-legged on her bed, Celeste the bear tight in her arms, plush zebra backpack on her back. "Hey, kiddo," I said, smiling and stepping into her room.

She grinned back, blond curls framing her small, delicate face. "Close the door real quick. I want to know what happened with Fang!"

I beamed. She sure missed him a lot. "Well, he got really emotional over Max and started crying. So I comforted him and we.." I struggled for words, trying not to make it sound awkward. "We kinda cuddled. He had his wings..around me and was crying into my chest. He's just so sad.."

Angel frowned. "Poor Fang. Dylan, why were you cuddling him?"

I was taken aback by the question. What, was it illegal to care now? "I'm not entirely sure. I didn't feel like it would be okay to just sit there and watch him while he cried." I leaned against the wall at the foot of her bed, crossing my arms and looking out the window. "It wasn't weird for me, though, and I can't figure out why."

She ignored my snappy thought and gazed up at me and asked honestly, "Do you have feelings for him?"

I had to seriously think about it for a minute, and even then I wasn't really sure, but I answered anyway. "I don't..I don't honestly know, Ange. D'you suppose he's got feelings for me?"

The little girl before my shrugged. "I don't know, Dylan. He could. He's not exactly what you'd call stable, right? Maybe he's still messed up. Incoherent. You know what I mean?" For a girl her age, she was really smart. Max and I had talked about sending the kids to school a few times before, but then decided that it probably wouldn't be the best decision in the world. So we kept them out of school. But even without school, Angel had to be the most intelligent girl of her age.

Mulling her response over, I decided that she had a point. Fang was unstable. Not thinking straight. I was about to reply when Max banged on the door and barged in. "Waffles are getting cold, you two!" she exclaimed, smiling faintly.

Angel hopped off her bed, Celeste under her arm and the unnamed zebra on her back. "Alright!" She giggled and sped down the hallway into the kitchen.

"So," Max started, slipping her hand into mine.

"Hm?"

"I think we need to have a talk wiith Gazzy about his behavior at the mall," she said quietly, gazing at me like a cat that was very fond of its owner.

I nodded, smirking as we entered the kitchen. I sat next to Max, hand still in hers, sprinkling powdered sugar over my one lone waffle as I started speaking. "So, Gazzy. I do believe that we should talk about the mall.._incident_," I told him, using a scolding tone.

His big blue eyes widened and he groaned, mouth full of half-chewed waffle. Angel shrilled that it was disgusting and he should close his mouth because it was just grossing everyone out.

"Gazzy, did you really think we'd let that go?" Max asked, leaning forward to hold his big blue eyes with her chocolate brown ones. "We almost got kicked out of the mall because of you!" Her soft, warm hand slipped out of mine as she started cutting her waffles.

Gazzy snickered. "But Max, it was my best stink bomb yet! I had to use it somewhere!" he whined, thankfully swallowing his food first.

I smacked my forehead against my palm. "Honestly, Gaz, you'd have been better off using it here," I informed him, closing my eyes and holding back a laugh which ended up a cough instead.

"And even then, you'd be in trouble for doing it," Max scolded. I opened my eyes to see her pointing a finger at him. I smiled to myself. She was so motherly.

Gazzy sighed deeply. "Okay, okay, I won't do it again.."

"Good," Max and I said firmly in unison, relief just barely seeping into our voices. Usually, Gazzy put up more of a fight.

"Dear Lord, you guys sound exactly like parents," Iggy remarked with a soft chuckle, taking a huge bite of waffle.

Nudge giggled. "You totally do," she agreed before shoving a forkful of waffle into her mouth.

I felt my face flush. "Oh."

Max suddenly got tense. She gave out a nervous laugh, like someone had asked her something and she hadn't really heard them, so she laughed in reply, hoping they didn't ask a question. At least, that's what it reminded me of. "Hey, you alright, Max?" I asked, resting an arm on her shoulder.

She swallowed the waffle she was eating and leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I need to talk to you." She sounded sad, distressed. I hated it.

I stood with her, grasping her hand gently and wiping over my mouth with the back of my other one. I made a face because it was sticky. "Well, alright, let's go to the room."

For a few minutes, Max just sat on the edge of the bed, biting her lip. I leaned back against the computer desk behind me. Then she started to talk. "Okay..so, uhm, you know how I was trying to tell you something at the mall the other day?"

I nodded.

"Well, it's kinda..uhm..well..I..Fang and I..I'm not a virgin."

My eyes widened. I was completely shocked. "What?"

"Fang and I had sex," she said almost inaudibly, hanging her head, refusing to meet my eyes. "It was about a month after you got here. You and I were..'together'," she said shakily, making air quotes. "You know how I felt about you. I hated your guts, for the most part. Fang and I were so in love. So, one night, he snuck into my room because I had made you sleep on the couch." She laughed without humor. "How sad is it that I was disgusted by even the _thought _of you touching me? Anyway, he came in and we started kissing. But we got so much deeper that night, Dylan.

"He told me how much he loved me, how he wanted to be with me forever, live like that forever. He wanted me to be his forever. And, Dylan, I was so deeply in love with him then. I'm just praying that you don't flip your lid on me for just now telling you this. I could never find the right time. I just wanted you to know."

I gulped. "You..you cheated on me."

She frowned, meeting my eyes again. "Dylan.."

"No, no, I get it, love, I get it. It's all in the past, it's no big deal now." I hugged her tight. "We're together now, and that's all that matters."

She smiled against my chest. "Okay."

Later, after everyone was asleep, I snuck out of our room and went out into the living room. I decided to call Fang and talk to him about what Max had told me. He picked up on the second ring. "Yo."

"You and Max had sex?" I decided to just get straight to the point. Fang didn't like dawdling and either did I.

His breath caught. "Oh. She told you." I could just imagine him shifting uncomfortably, not wanting to talk about it.

"Yeah. Why didn't you tell me?"

There was an almost audible shrug. How did I know him so well already? We'd only really been friends about a week. "I don't know. I figured you'd be upset with me and I didn't want to lose my only friend..you know what I mean? And I totally, completely get it if you hate me now."

He sounded so heartbroken, so sad. I couldn't just sit there and tell him I hated him. Because I didn't. I was a little bit upset with him, though. I thought he trusted me. Then again, this was two years ago, not two days ago. I was overreacting a little bit. "No, it's fine, dude. I just had to hear it from you." I yawned. "That's why I called, so, um, yeah, I'll talk to you later. I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight."

"Night."

I silently crept back through the house, sliding into our room. Max sat up in bed. "Hey," she grumbled groggily.

"Oh, sorry, did I wake you?" I asked quietly, sliding beneath the covers with her, laying her back down next to me, pulling her body tight against mine.

"Mm, yeah, but that's okay. I don't mind," she whispered back, snuggling against me and then kissing me.

I think that her intention was for it to be a short kiss and then we'd fall back to sleep, but I was absolutely awake and I was craving her. I held her tighter against me, sliding my hands up her back, landing in between her wings. I stroked her soft skin as I pulled her impossibly closer to me. We kissed passionately, our lips crushing against each other, her mouth opening just slightly, my tongue inching past her teeth slowly. She pulled on my shirt and I knew she craved me, too.

I knew what I was doing. I had full control of myself.

I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't love Max.

As soon as she yanked my shirt off, I knew it was going to happen.

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, they had sex. I know it says it's a Fylan story, and the Fylan is coming, this is just another lead into it. Patience, my darlings! :3**


	11. Intensity

**Dylan**

I woke up before Max. I woke up with our bodies pressed tightly together. I woke up confused. I woke up with a realization.

I'd given my virginity to Max. Her head was against my chest, legs intertwined with mine. No! This was all wrong. She and Fang had had sex! How could I have even begun to talk myself into this? To think that it was even remotely okay? All of it was wrong. l always thought I'd have waited until I loved someone to have sex with them. What the hell had I gotten myself into? How could I have violated Fang's trust that way?

It was then that I realized that I may have been just a tiny bit jealous of Famg. I also realized that I had to tell him I'd slept with Max, that he'd be pissed beyond belief. That, in a way, I'd betrayed him.

Max grunted in her sleep, nuzzling my chest.

I couldn't bear to look at her any longer. I couldn't bear to be..naked with her. I couldn't bear to think to myself that I was a terrible person. I've found that once you've done something you shouldn't have, something you're highly ashamed of, you can't admit to yourself that you're a bad person. You can't admit to yourself that you've screwed up. Again.

You just don't know _what_ to do.

i silently got out of bed and pulled on my boxers, practically sprinting to the bathroom. I locked the door and spread my wings to a comfortable angle, then slid slowly to the ground, head in my hands. I began to hyperventilate a little. I felt like barfing. Ugh.

After a few minutes of trying to steady my uneven breathing, I felt genuinely sick.I crawled over to the toilet, not wanting to stand and face the coward, the monster, the _complete idiot _in the mirror. I hugged the toilet bowl and just stared into the water for a few minutes. Somehow, this relaxed my stomach. Somehow, I felt more at ease.

Finally, I pulled myself together and mustered up the courage to stand, to face myself in our huge bathroom mirror. When I did stand, I half expected to see some cocky, jackass part of me. The devil on my shoulder. _Something_.

Instead, I saw me. Just me, just Dylan. Tall, lean. Faint six-pack abs, strong figure. My shiny turquoise eyes, the deep v that led into my boxers. The usual mess of long golden-blond hair atop my head. I wished that my mental physique was as strong as my physical one. I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair and meeting my own eyes in the mirror. "You are pathetic," I told myself viciously.

It was then that I decided to shower.

The shower was blazing hot. I washed my hair twice and nearly rubbed a layer of skin off. I didn't want Max's soft, sweet, lingering touches to pollute my body as well as my head. Surprisingly, this was a very slow process. At least, it felt like an eternity. In reality, I'd only taken a seven minute shower.

After I got out of the shower, I dried off with a towel and walked to the kitchen in my boxers. Iggy was already up, preparing the usual Saturday breakfast of super-huge omeletes. I sat at the table. Somehow, I thought Iggy didn't hear me, but here's a little secret-_Iggy hear everything_. "Angel?" he called out quietly.

I almost laughed, and probably would have if I hadn't been so uptight. "Close. Dylan."

Iggy grinned. "Ah, alright. 'Sup?" he asked, flopping his first omelete onto a plate.

One of the things I liked most about Iggy was that he was really easy to talk to and usually kept things to himself. "I feel awkward."

One of his eyebrows perked up. "Why?"

I played with one of the napkins on the table for a few seconds. "Max and I had sex last night," I murmured, barely audible to my own ears.

"Woah. Wow. I don't even know what to say or how to react to that. You and Max bumped uglies?" He'd been grinning the entire time, not seeming fazed at all by what I'd just said.

I nodded imperceptibly. "Yeah."

"That should be okay, though, right? You two are so in love."

I flinched. Not only because he'd said that Max and I were "in love", but when he said "in love", the image of Fang's black eyes flashed across my brain. They were like the night sky, holding together a whole world and hiding it all at once. "I..I'm not sure that I love her," I admitted quietly.

Iggy froze and his head snapped up. "Shit, dude! Why would you do that? Do you have any idea what I'd give to even tell Nudge that I have feelings for her? Yet here you are, in all your glory, messing with Max's heart!"

I hung my head. "I..I know. I feel so..I feel so shitty. By the way, Nudge likes you back. It's totally obvious."

He gulped when I said Nudge's name. "That..slipped out..," he mumbled, turning red as a cherry and returning to the omeletes. "I love her, though. I really do."

I smiled bitterly, leaving us in silence for a few minutes.

"Dylan, you know you can just tell Max that you're not sure what you feel."

I groaned. "That's the thing, Ig. I just can't bring myself to tell her that I don't know how I feel. I can't bring myself to hurt her that way."

He bit his lower lip and shook the strawberry blond hair out of his face. "Well, maybe you're just confused. Is there someone else?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Kind of. Maybe. I don't know. I've always kind of doubted my feelings for Max, though, that's the thing. Well, except for when I first got here. I was obsessed with her and she hated me. Sometimes, I think things were better when Fang was around."

Iggy stiffened. "I think they're better now that he's gone. I mean, yeah, I miss him like heck, but it's so much more peaceful. Plus, there isn't a ton of tension plaguing the house.."

I shrugged. A few more minutes of silence.

"Alright," Iggy said softly, setting down his spatula. "How about this. You get outta here for a while, maybe the whole day and I'll cover for you. But only if you promise not to tell anyone about Nudge."

"Scout's honor."

He nodded and I left.

**Fang**

My blogging was interrupted by three precise knocks on the hotel door.

"Yo. It's nine fifty-three, you know that, right?" I quipped sarcastically, smirking faintly at Dylan, who looked tense and carelessly clothed.

He shrugged. "Yeah. I just..had to get away from that madhouse."

I felt my eyebrows furrow in frustration. "What happened this time?" I asked, stepping aside and letting him into the room. He walked slowly over to the couch, like he was in some sort of weird trance. It kind of creeped me out, seeing Dylan this..blue. Wasn't I the one that was supposed to be all angsty?

He sat, spine straight, wings flat against it. He didn't answer me, just eyed me sadly. For once, he wasn't providing me with a clear read. He was just tense, quiet, sad..

And then suddenly, I knew. "You had sex with Max last night."

Two sad, shining pools of blue met my two orbs of night. "I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly, looking as if he were about to cry.

I snorted. "No, you're not, Dillweed. You had sex with the girl you know I love. Yet you can't even stand her half the time! What the hell? Did you just fuck her so you could rub it in my face and laugh while you watched me fall apart? Shit!" I was shouting.

His eyes shined even more. "I wasn't thinking! I'm not..I'm not okay! There's something wrong with me! I don't know what's going on, Fang. I don't know what I feel toward anyone! I hate myself, and that's all that I know!" A single tear slid down his left cheek.

I glared at him. "And that gives you the right to mess with her feelings? You know she's going to find out that you don't love her sooner or later! Hell, why are you even here, admitting this to me? Why aren't you back with the flock? Because if you don't want to be there anyway, maybe I should go back! They're my flock, anyway!" I lashed my arm out at the air.

He stood and walked over to me, staring at me. "They're my flock now, not yours. You left them and I didn't. Just because I don't care so much for Max doesn't mean I don't care about the flock," he said quietly, another tear slipping down his cheek, leaving a shimmering track down his face. "I didn't want to anger you. But I do understand that I'm an inconvenience. If you wish, I will leave and I will not come back. I'll leave you alone."

I didn't know what to say. He was right. "Just get out."

He left, shutting the door quietly.

Right as that door shut, right as he walked out, I felt hollow. I felt empty and hollow and numb.

Max really had moved on.

I thought about Dylan saying that the flock was his now. _"You left them and I didn't." _That stung more than he could know. Watching him leave had only made the hole in my chest gape more. I never thought that he'd hurt me almost as equally as bad as Max had. In fact, that door shutting behind him hurt more than anything ever had. Because now not only had my first love lost feelings for me, but my only friend had left. I feared that he wouldn't come back.

I realized that I cared about him.

I cared about Dylan in a way that was more than just friends. I was starting to discover that Dylan had an effect on me. When he was around, I was happy. When he was gone, I was bored and lonely. When I was in a room with him, I wanted to talk to him and be near him.

I realized that I couldn't decide if I was more jealous of him, or if I was more jealous of Max.

I realized that I was starting to lose feelings for Max and gaining feelings for Dylan.

I stared at the wall for a few minutes, then laid down and curled up under my blankets.

**Dylan**

I stayed on the rooftop of the hotel all day, thinking of how I could apologize to Fang, how I could gain him back. It probably wouldn't be an easy feat. I just kept replaying the fight in my head. Him yelling at me for messing with Max's feelings. Him telling me to get out. Me almost losing it right in front of him.

No, I'd saved the losing my head part for when I got to the roof. It was cold and the wind burned my eyes. It was freezing and bitter and terrible. Nearly all of me had lost feeling about an hour later, both physically and mentally. I think I fell asleep, because I don't remember it starting to snow. When I woke up, everything was covered in white. Including me.

And now, hours later, here I was, in the same spot, with the same aches in my chest. The same numbness I'd gained hours before. The same regrets. Here I was, in the same situation. I just did not know how to apologize to him and make it seem like a genuine sorry. But I knew sorry wasn't going to cover this. I knew that I needed to man up.

It was past dark when I decided to go apologize. I let myself in, but the room was dark. He must have fallen asleep. _I'll just leave a note,_ I figured. I found a piece of paper on the nightstand next to Fang. He was in the fetal position, blankets tight around him, whimpering in his sleep. I found a broken pencil and wrote with it.

_Fang,_

_ I truly am sorry that I violated your trust in the way that I did. I did not wish for us to fight. I knew you'd be pissed. I am so sorry. I don't know really how to apologize correctly without seeming fake. And I know that sorry won't cut it. I honestly hope that we can still be friends. It was never in my intention for us not to be. In fact, I don't know what the hell my intentions were. I wasn't thinking. At all. I just hope that you can forgive me._

_Sincerely, Dylan._

I left silently with a hope in my heart that he could forgive me. That was all that I wanted.

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><p><strong>AN: Did you guys like it? Let me know what you think's going to happen in the next chapter! Read on! And, as always, R&Rs appreciated!**


	12. Raging Storms

**A/N: HOLY CRAP. I wrote you guys a chapter that was almost 3,000 words. Wewt! R&Rs appreciated, I love you, my beautiful readers! Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Dylan<strong>

I was standing on a cliff somwhere, wind whipping my hair around crazily. The sky was a pure blue without clouds. The sun shone brightly and beat down on me. I sighed contently and turned around.

Fang sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling. He was gazing out at the canyon before him, obviously deep in thought. I went to take a step towards him, but I found that I couldn't move. What? I'd just been able to turn around! I tried turning back around. I _could not _move.

Fang turned his head, as if he'd heard my mental confusion. He scrambled to his feet and walked over to me. "Hello, Dylan," he said maliciously. I could feel the hate radiating off of him as he stepped closer.

I attempted to respond, to open my mouth and speak, but I was unable to. He smiled at me almost evilly, black wings flaring out behind him, as if he were about to fly off and just leave me here. "Oh, Dylan. You're really too cowardly to reply? And I was only saying hello!" He clicked his tongue. "I think you need to learn some manners. Or did Max take them..?"

He was in my personal space now, black eyes searching my face steadily, unrevealing as ever. "You won't even say goodbye to me? I thought we were friends," he hissed, backing away and glaring at me.

I could only watch as Fang walked to the cliff's edge, gave me a murderous yet sad look, tightened his huge black wings against his spine, and hurled himself off the cliff.

CRACK!

I bolted awake, springing straight up. Perspiration was thick on my forehead, matting my hair to my face. I was clutching my chest and breathing heavily. Another heavy crack sounded outside. It occured to stupid, half-awake me that it was storming.

Max was next to me, arms around my waist. She breathed in and out steadily, nose whistling. I gazed down at her, realizing as lightning illuminated the room how truly gorgeous she was. Her sandy brown hair was tousled. She was at ease. I hoped that she wouldn't be too upset with me. "I'm sorry, but he needs someone," I whispered to her sleeping form, smoothing her hair and taking her arms slowly off of my waist, careful to not wake her.

I stood and pulled a shirt on and snuck out of the room, doing my best to be silent. I was sockless as I yanked on my gray Chucks, but that didn't matter. I _had _to get to Fang. Whether he was still mad at me or not, I had to see that he was okay. _He must be having a panic attack, _I thought worriedly.

As I thrusted myself into the storm, I realized just how dangerous it was. I flew as fast as I could. The rain blinded me and felt like bullets. I didn't care. In those minutes that didn't pass fast enough, Fang was all that mattered.

Once I was in the building, I didn't even bother shaking off.

I sped up to Fang's room and opened the door as thunder rattled throughout the building.

**Fang**

I was shaking insanely as thunder shook the hotel. _Why do I have to be on the twenty-seventh floor? Why me? _I thought as my door slammed open, causing me to squeal in fear. The lights flickered. I squeezed my eyes shut and heard the door close. Was it Dylan? Hopefully. I didn't want some creepy old guy in my room.. Plus, I'd read the letter he left earlier. Maybe he came back to apologize in person.

"Fang?" he asked in that wonderful, calming voice. My eyes snapped open and I felt close to tears as lightning struck through the sky again, thunder milliseconds behind it. Dylan stood there, literally dripping wet, and.._highly attractive. _He didn't even look cold. He wore the most fearless expression I'd ever seen on him. I could feel my insides do this crazy flip-flop of excitement. "Are you okay?"

I fell apart.

I didn't crack. I'd cracked too many times over the course of the last few weeks. It was time to completely fall apart.

I was in automatic tears, bawling like a freaking baby. _God, I'm pathetic, _I thought as I buried my face in my arms, which were propped up in my knees. I shook harder as thunder rumbled louder than it had before. "D..Dy..Dylan..," I managed to choke out. "Sc..scared."

There was weight on the bed next to me and blankets suddenly around me, Dylan's wet head on my shoulder, chilling my skin and making the shoulder of my t-shirt wet. His arms wrapped around the blanket, holding me as I sobbed. "Hush, it's okay. Shh. It'll be over soon, I promise." His lips were at my ear, hot breath tickling my skin. I saw the lights falter and go out, and then lightning illuminate the room, thunder close behind it. I shook even harder, skin prickling. Dylan did his best to try and keep me steady.

We sat like that for what seemed like hours. The storm eventually ceased, thunder no longer rattling my bones. The lights weren't back on when I finally lifted my head, dizzy from all the sobbing and shaking. Dylan was stroking my hair, still in his wet clothes. His touches were relaxing and calming. "Wh..why did you come..back?" I asked, once I had found my voice.

Dylan's mesmerizing blue eyes met mine and he was looking at me like, _are you kidding me? _"I had to make sure that you were okay," he said quietly, shivering. "I know how you are during storms. I heard you every time we had one while you were with us. I always worried." He squeezed me tighter. "And even though you were mad at me, I couldn't let you sit in here and suffer."

I looked at him disbelievingly. He'd actually worried? "I'm not mad anymore.." I said quietly, sniffling and wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "Do you know why I've always been so afraid of storms, Dylan?"

He shook his head, shivering again and gazing intensely at me. My eyes dropped to the comforter of the bed. "They remind me of the School and all of their terrible experiments. They remind me of how when it stormed there, I couldn't react, I couldn't do anything. Not in front of the other flock members. I refused to let my fear show, so I sat in that dog crate and I tried to focus on my breathing."

"Did it always work?"

I shook my head. "No. Sometimes I started hyperventilating or having small panic attacks. But I never cried. I shook on a rare occasion. But usually, I didn't let myself shake. I gritted my teeth and stayed perfectly still."

His eyebrows furrowed together adorably. "So..Max has never seen you cry?"

I shook my head again.

He let out a long breath. "Wow." He shivered again.

"Dylan?"

"Huh?"

"Are you cold?" I asked slowly, trying to wiggle out of the blanket. It didn't work well, with his arms wrapped so tightly around me.

He nodded. "Yeah. I guess I am. I was just..I was too focused on you to even realize that I was cold. I'm probably going to get sick now," he replied, laughing weakly.

I tried to smile, but it didn't work. "You should, uhm, go..shower and leave your clothes in the bathroom to dry. And then come wrap in a blanket. You'll feel better after that."

He shivered again, smiling weakly at me. "Alright. Will you be okay out here?"

"Yeah."

He unwrapped his arms from around me, getting up and walking to the bathroom. He slipped his shirt off over his head as he walked, causing it to make a sound against his skin that reminded me of nails on a chalkboard. Ugh. I watched him, and despite how dark it was, I could just make out the muscles on his chest. He was lean and had a nice six-pack. His wings looked black in the dark as he stretched them out, walking into the bathroom.

I laid down, close to the wall and stared off into space, thinking about how pointlessly angry I'd been earlier. I just felt idiotic now for losing my head. I'd risked losing my only friend for selfish reasons. It seemed that that was all I was. Selfish.

I listened as the water turned on and heard Dylan moan quietly as the hot water hit his skin. I cleared my mind and just listened to him shower. He'd been in only a few seconds as he started singing quietly, in that lustrous voice that he had. _"Wait, where you say you've been? Who you been with? Where you say you're goin'? Who you goin' with? Keep me on my toes, keep me in the know. Wait, keep me in your skin. Keep me in your chest. I'll wait for it to start. I'll wait for it to end. Keep me on my toes, keep me in the know. But when I looked at her, I only thought of you. If only there was proof I could use to show it's true._

_ "We were young, we were in our teens. It wasn't real love, spent behind bars. Oh it's sad to think we just let it be. Prisoners of love.."_

I recognized the song that he was singing, but couldn't call it by name. I knew I'd heard it before. It seemed like a perfect example, as I listened closely, of our situation. He hit the chorus loudly, and I wondered if he knew that I could hear him. _"Just crash, fall down. I'll wrap my arms around you now. Just crash, it's our time now. To make this work second time around.."_

The water stopped a few minutes later and I waited as he dried off, holding my breath. I was nervous and almost expected him to come out naked. He emerged about two minutes later, in his plaid boxers. I let out a long breath slowly. "You're a lovely singer," I notified him quietly, playing with my fingers. I was glad that it was dark. I felt my face flushing.

Dylan's white grin glowed against the dark of the room. "Thanks. Sorry if I got a little loud."

I shook my head. "You didn't."

He clambered onto the bed, curling up under the blankets, wet hair splayed out against the pillow. We lay face to face, staring at each other for a few moments. Unlike me, Dylan was not comfortable with silence. "I really am sorry that I slept with Max," he murmured.

I bit my lip and shrugged. "It's over now. There's no use dwelling on the past. What's done is done," I said with finality.

His gorgeous blue eyes blazed happily. "You're really not pissed anymore?"

I shook my head. "It's pointless being mad. She doesn't even want me anymore, so what's the use?"

He grinned widely, eyes like little blue flashlights. "I'm so glad we're okay. I thought for sure I wouldn't have anyone to rant to anymore but a nine-year-old," he replied, laughing softly.

Dylan has one of those laughs, one of those smiles, one of those personalities that just makes you want to smile and be happy. I smiled back at him. "Nah, you've got me and you always will," I assured him. Without even thinking, I grasped his soft, warm hand in mine underneath the comforter.

My smile dropped and I let go of his hand almost as quickly as I'd grabbed it. I felt my face burning again. "Um, I, uh, sorry.."

He just looked at me, not frowning, but not smiling either. I couldn't really read his expression, but his eyes were still shining. "Oh, it's fine."

I gulped. "No. You're uncomfortable now."

He shook his head quickly, wet hair flying around a little bit, some of the water landing on my face. "No, really, it's fine." He smiled flawlessly.

_I want you to kiss me._

Woah, okay. Where did that come from? I scooted farther away from him, backing up all the way against the wall, wrapping my wings around myself. "Night, Dylan."

"Night, Fang."

**Dylan**

I woke up before Fang, facing the alarm clock. It was blinking and the light was on. I checked my phone. Seven fifteen. I had to get home. If Max was already awake, I was dead. I left Fang a note on my pillow telling him that I'd left and set his clock to the right time.

As I left, pulling on my damp clothes and shoes, I thought about him grabbing my hand last night. It wasn't really a big deal to me, considering my feelings toward him were starting to be a little more than friendly. I wondered stupidly if he felt the same way. Probably not. That was just my luck. Being forced to be with a girl I was "programmed" for and not loving her, and starting to fall for a _guy _who was just a really close friend.

Screw my life.

When I got home, sure enough, Max was sitting on the couch, bags under her eyes. When I walked in, she shot up off the couch, glaring at me. Ah, hell.

"There you are. Jesus Christ, Dylan, I was going to have a panic attack! You can't just leave randomly! Especially not during a freaking _storm! _What is w_rong _with you?" she shrilled at me.

"I left because I needed to think! Christ, do I need to give you the time and place, too? That's all I leave for! I think! I sure as hell can't do it here! I need my thoughts to be private at least once in a while! You need to stop bitching at me for everything that I do! I get that you're clingy and all, but you don't need to be such a bitch about it!"

I was yelling back. And I hated myself for doing this.

"Well, you could at least bother to leave a note once in a while so I know you haven't been kidnapped! Something could've happened to you! God damn! I don't get why you're so uptight lately!"

I wanted to leave. But I couldn't do that, not right now. "We had sex the other night, Max! I'm sorry that I'm feeling a little awkward! Maybe you just shouldn't have told me that you and Fang had sex, too! Maybe I wouldn't be so uptight! Maybe if you cared about my happiness too and not just yours, our relationship wouldn't be so screwed up!" I roared, swatting out at nothing.

Max's eyes filled up with tears and she ran away, shoving past the rest of the flock, who were standing behind us in their pajamas. I sighed and dragged my hands through my hair. "Woah, man. What's all the hubbub?" Iggy asked. I looked up to see him and Nudge holding each other's hands.

"Nothing," I muttered angrily, sitting down on the couch.

Angel asked me to come to her room. "Please, Dylan. It's important," she'd pleaded when I'd ignored her.

"Fine."

I followed her to her fluffy room and sat on the bed with her. I explained to her what happened last night and Fang and I fighting. I explained everything to her. I even told her that I was starting to feel for him. The sad thing was, she understood me. And she was nine.

Sure, I was technically two, but I had the mentality of a seventeen or eighteen-year-old, like I was supposed to. And I was ranting to someone half my mentality, explaining my twisted story to them.

She listened and said all the right things. Angel's weird like that. She always knows what to say. Unlike me..

We ate dinner later, without Max. She'd locked herself in her room and refused to speak to anyone, even me. Not that I wanted to talk to her, anyway.

After dinner, Ange and I watched tv for a while, and we both went to bed in her room around nine. I didn't even feel bad for making Max cry or anything, which was probably the worst part of my train of thought as I held sleeping Angel under my arm and waited to fall asleep.

When I fell asleep, I told myself that I didn't want to wake up.


	13. You Can't Leave Me

**Dylan**

My brain must have listened to me when I said to myself that I didn't want to wake up, because I ended up awakening at twelve-thirty-a rarity. Angel was already awake, as was everyone else (except possibly Gazzy, who liked to sleep in). I sat up, rubbing my eyes with clenched fists. Faintly, I heard Iggy laugh. Probably Nudge was entertaining him. Or Gazzy was ripping them all over the living room again (yeah, it's happened before..). Something interesting was going on.

Maybe Max was actually back to being the likeable Max. The Max who cracked dumb jokes that everyone loved. The smiley, happy, laughing, lovable Max. I smiled for a second, then frowned. She hadn't exactly impressed me yesterday. Dylan's not allowed to do _anything._

How Fang had ever managed to deal with this, I don't know. The guy deserved a freaking medal for it.

Then again, I had to take into consideration that she used to never be bipolar Max until I stepped into the picture. Of course. Dylan ruins everything. I felt that I should've been wearing a shirt that read: Dylan-your favorite homewrecker! I felt stupid for ever believing that Max would've been completely happy with me. Of course I didn't think that anymore, just when I showed up, but still. It was obvious that she still loved Fang, no matter how much she tried to deny it. I remembered watching them together those couple years ago and how every time I did, jealousy filled my gut, making me queasy.

When he used to kiss her, her wings at the tops of her shoulders, the mostly white fluffy ones, would twitch with excitement. With happiness. When they'd cuddle during movies, if she laughed, her head was leaning on his shoulder or shoved into it, trying to be quiet so everyone else could hear. When he nuzzled her, she was grinning and blushing and happy.

She almost never was like that with me. We were more of a tense couple. We tried to avoid fights, but sometimes, they were completely unavoidable. Take last night for example. Maybe it was just because she'd known Fang all her life and me only two years. Heck, I'd technically been around her and known her almost my entire life as a clone. Six months prior, I'd been with Doc G-H.

Sometimes, I craved the old times. The times when pissing her off was the least of my worries and losing her was the worst thing imaginable.

I climbed out of Angel's too-small bed, sending stuffed animals flying in every direction. I sighed and picked them up, made her bed as neatly as I could, and walked out to the living room. Iggy and Nudge were sitting next to each other and Ig had his arm around her shoulders. They were smiling and talking quietly. When I walked in, they both laughed privately. Angel and Gazzy were sitting on the floor side by side, watching some cartoon. I wasn't at all familiar with cartoons, so don't ask me the name of it. I couldn't have told you even if I wanted to.

Max was lounging on the couch, legs across the cushions, watching the cartoon with them. No one noticed that I'd walked into the room. For a few moments, I just stood where I was in plain sight if anyone turned. I watched all of them.

Iggy was staring somewhere above Nudge's head. He was good, but not that good. It almost looked like he was staring at me, which honestly creeped me out just a little. As a matter of fact, if he hadn't been talking to Nudge, he'd have heard me enter the room. Nudge was gazing up at him, talking probably about all the things that she was wishing for. Angel had Celeste on her lap and the unnamed zebra tight on her back, white wings framing it almost perfectly. Gazzy sat next to her, hands laced behind his head, leaned up against the coffee table. His legs barely touched the entertainment center.

And then Max. She looked tense as ever and started chewing on one of her fingernails. I wanted to walk over and take it out of her mouth, but I decided not to unless I wanted to get my butt kicked. One thing you never do is disrupt Max while she's doing something. You _will _be assassinated on the spot. No joke.

All of a sudden, Gazzy farted, insanely loud. It was unexpected, and scared the crap out of me, causing me to jump. I could almost hear him grinning evilly. Angel flung her nine-year-old body away from him, screeching. Iggy bursted out laughing. Nudge followed suit, resting her head against his chest. And Max. Just sitting, smiling faintly, still chewing away at her fingernail. "Oh, God, Gazzy! That's just disgusting!" Angel shouted, plugging her nose and Celeste's.

I just smiled a little and shook my head. Then, mustering up all the courage I had, I waltzed over and plopped down on the arm of the couch, right by Max's head. She glanced up at me, still chewing away at her fingernail. She removed it from her mouth. "You're awake." It wasn't enthusiastic in the slightest. It was more of a monotone sound, like she was a robot or something.

I nodded imperceptibly and bit the inside of my cheek.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked quietly, cloaking her words among Angel's repulsed screeches and the other's laughs.

I nodded again. She stood up and led me to our bedroom. I followed close behind.

Once we were in the bedroom, she shut the door and sat on the bed. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking up at me defiantly.

I shrugged, running a hand through my mop of hair.

Her eyebrows furrowed together adorably, showing her confusion. "What's wrong, babe?"

I don't know what it was that hit me. I think it was an emotional hurricane.

"You really have to a_sk _that, Max? You really don't know what my problem is? I'll tell you what my problem is, then. You're my problem. You're what's wrong, Max. It's you!" I hated sounding like a dick, I hated yelling at her. But it was the truth, and it had to get out sometime. I couldn't keep up with this game anymore. "Every time I just want to be alone, go do something on my own, you yell at me! You get all mad and bipolar! I don't know what it is about me that makes you so mad, but I'm sorry! I can't be perfect, Max! I'm sorry that I can't be Fang, okay?"

That hit her hard, it was obvious on her face. Tears started streaming out of her eyes, leaving behind little silver trails. "Dylan-"

But I wasn't done. "It's so obvious that you still love him, Max. You were so much happier with him! You guys were like two freaking peas in a pod! If you still love him, why the hell are you with me? Don't you even dare say that you love me more, when I already know that compared to him, I'm next to _nothing! _Did you think that I wouldn't notice just because you shattered his heart? You've been so tense lately! It's just a giveaway!"  
>"Dylan, you know I love you more than anyth-" She was damn near bawling now.<p>

"Don't lie to me! You know, Max, sometimes being with you is like running. You just get tired of it. I'm starting to think that maybe you and I just shouldn't be together anymore." With that, I spun on my heel, snatched my shoes off the rack, and started walking outside. She was right behind me, bawling. I wanted to turn around and hold her and apologize, but I couldn't do that. I kept my poker face and leaned against the wall, tugging my shoes on hastily.

"Please, Dylan, don't leave. Don't leave me. You can't leave me. Don't do this, please.." She was tugging at my clothes. I pushed her away gently.

"You can kill me later."

I marched through the living room, livid. I was pissed at myself. I was pissed at Max. I was pissed at everyone. I flung the door open and shot into the sky, flying as fast as I possibly could. I didn't need to look back over my shoulder to know that Max was on her knees, bawling, and everyone was rushing to her aid. At least she had them. They loved her more than I ever could.

When I reached Fang's hotel room, I let myself in, already knowing he wouldn't be there. It was only about one, so I sat on the couch and flipped through the channels as I waited for him.

**Fang**

I hated working sometimes. The days could be so slow, I swear. At six, I nearly literally flew out the door. I was hungry and I wanted pizza. So I stopped at a random pizza place and got a plain pepperoni pizza. I'd probably eat this baby all by my lonesome.

I felt kind of like a superhero delivery man, flying home with a box of pizza in my hand. I almost laughed, but settled for a grin. I was whistling when I opened the hotel door and was greeted by a large pair of turqouise eyes. "Hi, Dylan. You're rather awkward today."

It was the first humorous thing I'd said in a while. But Dylan just backed away a little. "Hi," he said quietly.

"'Sup?" I asked, stepping all the way in and shutting the door. I set the pizza down on a little table that had my laptop on it (yup, my blog's still going strong). He sat down on the bed and I leaned against the table, pulling out a piece of pizza with cheese just dripping from it. Unf is usually a word that I apply to attractive females (or Dylan, for that matter). In this situation, it was appropriate to apply to pizza.

Dylan grimaced at my greasy pizza. "Want some pizza?" I asked behind a mouthful. "S'comfort food."

He shook his head. "I screamed at Max today and made her bawl her eyes out."

My eyes widened. "What? Why?"

He gulped, staring up at the ceiling, face pale. "We had a fight yesterday and she bitched me out for never being home. I yelled back and she refused to come out of her room the rest of the day. This morning, she apologized and I just exploded and told her that I was sick of her being so vapid and bitchy when I want to not be around her. When I want 'alone time'." He made quotes in the air with his fingers. "I don't know why I was screaming. I was just..I was really upset. And it's totally obvious that she's more bitchy these days because you left and she's still in love with you."

I swallowed my pizza and set it down on the box. "Wow. Um. Well, I'm not about to come back. What are you going to do?"

He looked down at his hands, hanging his head guiltily. "I don't know. That's the problem. I feel like shit for screaming at her and making her cry, but I just want to get it over with. I..I.." His hands shook a little. "I don't know what to do."

"You can break up with her, dude. You don't need to suffer with her crap all the time." Boy, this was an uncomfortable situation for Fang. Woot! Awkward angsty teen moments! Yeah! No.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign of stress. "I'm thinking about doing it."

I sat next to him and rubbed circles on his back, and for once in my life, I was at a loss for words.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I KNOW, IT'S SHORTISH, I'M SORRY. D:**


	14. I Don't Know What To Do

**Fang**

That night was rough. I kept expecting Dylan to cry, to let some sort of weakness show. But nothing ever happened. He just sit on the couch, staring off into space, talking about how he didn't love her, how he was sick of her problems. Sometimes, he'd just sit there, quiet and lonely-looking. He reminded me of a kicked puppy.

Which was worse than him crying.

I was kind of confused on why it affected him so much. I think it was because Max was basically his best friend and he'd known her his whole life (well, except for those six months before he came). I think it was because being around her, the flock, making everyone smile, was a normal thing for him. He'd grown used to it and he couldn't believe he was going to leave it. At least, that's what I think. I didn't know.

I kept trying to read him, to read his pretty blue eyes. But it wasn't working, which was frustrating. I read people in silence. When I can't read people, it frustrates me.

When it was quiet, the TV wasn't even on. We just sat as the day grew darker and darker and the November sun no longer shone through the window. I listened hard and could almost hear our crazy, erratic birdkid heartbeats pumping. Our hearts are so unnormal. As are the rest of us. Blood transfusions will kill us, unless the blood's from another birdkid. Air sacs, basically another pair of lungs (I think). Our wings, of course. Maybe even down to the way our minds work. I wouldn't know. While Dylan stared blankly and numbly off into space, I thought about how Max could be taking this. I knew her well, probably better than anyone else in the world. I knew her face when she slept, the way she crinkled her nose when something disgusted her. I knew the scent of her. I knew the curves of her body. I knew everything about her.

Dylan couldn't possibly know as much as I did. Although Max probably had told him everything about her and he'd probably picked up on some stuff (because, let's face it, he's not an idiot), no one would ever know as much about her as me. Or maybe he did. For all I know, Max could've changed dramatically in the past month or so. From what I'd been told, she'd changed for the worse. And it was my fault. Hell, what wasn't my fault these days?

The blond boy finally walked numbly over to the bed and curled up, falling asleep almost automatically. I just sat on the bed for a few minutes until I noticed his breaths getting longer and more focused, less stressed. No longer was he tensed up, no longer was he stiff. He was Dylan, resting. He was Dylan, the calmest side of Dylan. He was the Dylan that I realized I was starting to fall for. It was so...what's the word? Unconventional.

Max says she doesn't love me anymore but she really does. Dylan doesn't have an ounce of feeling for her. Dylan worries about me. Dylan comes after me. Max starts to fight with Dylan constantly because of me. Dylan rants to me. Dylan, Dylan, Dylan..

I eventually couldn't stand to be in the same room with his sleeping form. My thoughts were starting to get too out of hand, borderline inappropriate. I'd been thinking about how I wanted to run my hands down his muscled torso, how I wanted his strong arms to hold me. It was scaring me how unbelievably _girly _I sounded. So, I did what Fang does best. I showered. Of course, this didn't mute my thoughts about the boy whom I was well past developing feelings for, but it helped relieve me of the...ehm..._sexual _(?) tension...

I loved the way the water splashed against my face. I loved how warm and welcoming it was. In the past weeks, I had forgotten completely about the wound on my hip. I looked down to see that it had scarred over. It wasn't pretty, and I definitely didn't like it, but what could I do? In that moment, I realized that all of my scars had a meaning, all of my scars were important. They were what shaped me. They made me who I was. I realized how much more I should appreciate them. I knew that I had an ugly, unattractive body, much like my hands. But I also realized how much I had learned from them, both mental and physical.

Once I was out of the shower, I yanked on some boxers and hustled out into the now frigid-seeming air of the hotel room. I threw my clothes onto the floor and nearly leapt into bed, cold biting at my skin, nipping at my skin. Gnawing at me.

The bed was warm. Dylan was facing me, arm over my pillow. I snuggled under the covers and nuzzled his hand affectionately before moving it. _I wish I could tell him without him judging me... _His face, flawless as ever with the blue light of the moon shining on it, contorted in his sleep, interrupting the peacefulness of it, but only for a moment. I was still cold, so I snuggled closer to him and let his arm which had been touching my pillow wrap itself around me. I shuddered. His skin was blazing and I wondered if he was getting a fever or becoming sick. I whimpered quietly.

I just laid there, watching him sleep for a while. He was gorgeous. Insanely gorgeous. Of course, he did have flaws. His top lip was uneven, thinner on the right than the left. But you'd only notice if you were close enough. His smile was just a bit crooked, but adorable. His hair stuck out when he woke up. But I didn't care. It was then, while I was laying in that bed, with his arm draped over me, that I realized: I was falling in love with Dylan and out of love with Max.

That was why I wanted him to kiss me, to run my hands down his perfect chest, nuzzle his soft, warm skin.

I wanted horribly to kiss him. Maybe if he was asleep, I could get away with it.

I inched closer and closer to his face, gazing longingly at his lips. No, I couldn't do it, not with him unwilling, not with him asleep. So I turned my head just a little and kissed his cheek. The skin was smooth and hot. I whimpered to myself, not liking that I had to settle with that.

But I did, and I fell asleep watching his peaceful sleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, Dylan was already awake, face in my hair. I mentally raised an eyebrow. "Morning."

He jumped. "Oh. I didn't know you were, um, I didn't know you were awake."

I smiled. "Oh, no, it's fine, really." I laughed. "You're so adorable," I blurted out.

_FANG. _I was chastising myself mentally now. I hated talking after I woke up. I have this tendency to blurt unneccessary things out. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

I felt Dylan's face grow hot. I pulled out of his arms and looked up at him. The blush slid over his face very noticeably. _Why is he blushing?_ He laughed nervously. "Oh. Uhm. Thanks."

"Sorry. That was...uh...not called for..."

He smiled, the blush in his cheeks deepening adorably. He was so c_ute! Oh, god. Okay. I sound like a girl now. _I struggled to get a good grip on my thoughts before I said something else completely stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Nah, it's fine." His index finger brushed my cheek. I shuddered.

We laid there for a minute or so, in silence. His deep blue eyes gazed into mine. I wanted so badly to kiss him. I jerked myself away after a minute, blushing. "What's wrong? Is it me?" he asked, face crumpling like a piece of paper. _What?_

I frowned. "No. It's not you. It's me," I admitted. Maybe he'd catch on...

I don't think he did. "Oh. What do you me-"

Dylan was cut off by his phone ringing. He groaned and looked at the caller ID. "Max," he whispered. He stared at it for a minute and pressed end. "I don't want to talk to her." He breathed deeply. He was so stressed...I wished I could help. But I knew that if I tried, it'd just stress him further. It was one of the disadvantages of him being so similar to Max. I wondered how stubborn he was. If he was Max-stubborn, I was completely and totally doomed.

"I know. It's okay, dude," I assured him, putting my hand on his shoulder. I was too gentle, and gravity took over my hand. It landed on his neck awkwardly. "Erm, sorry."

When I was about to pull away, he held my hand there. "You have soft hands. They're warm, too." He closed his eyes and smiled, keeping my hand on his neck. I stiffened. "Sorry," he said quietly, giving me my hand back. I let it linger on his neck for a moment, savoring his hot skin. "I'm probably making you feel really awkward. You probably think I'm gay or something."

I laughed. "No. More like I think _I'm_ gay." _FANG. UGH. STOP. BLURTING. THINGS. OUT. _

Dylan's eyes opened. "Are you gay?"

His blue eyes were all questioning and wondering. They were so deeply blue and shiny, with his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he blinked. Gosh, he was gorgeous... I realized that I was just laying there, gazing into his eyes. I gulped. "Um...well...I don't...I don't know..." For some reason, I didn't lie. For some reason, he made me stuttter. For some reason, I wanted to tell him the truth. For some reason, I didn't think he'd judge me.

His blue eyes held mine. "Fang. You can tell me anything."

I opened my mouth to speak, but got cut off by his phone going off again. It scared both of us, and I jumped back. We shared a look and started laughing. He held up his phone. "Stop calling me...," he grumbled at the phone. I took it in my hand. He just looked at me like, w_hat are you doing? _I pressed end.

"We need to figure that situation out. What are you going to do about her?" I asked him, hanging on to the phone and dismissing the voicemail icon.

Dylan gulped and dragged his eyes along the ceiling nervously. "I don't know," he replied honestly, his voice shaking. "I don't even understand why this is having such a huge effect on me if I don't love her. I just don't understand..."

I put my hand back on his neck, caressing the soft, blazing skin under his jaw with my thumb. "It's because you're so used to it. Being around her is like a habit for you. Plus, she's obviously your best friend. You've told me how uncomfortable you are with keeping me from her. It's because you tell her everything. If you break up with her, she'll get over it eventually. Dylan, I think it's just time to let her go. I mean, do what you think is right. Ya know what I'm saying?"

His eyes soared into the depths of mine, searching for something that said it was the right thing to do. He nodded slowly, placing a warm hand over my own. "You're really hot," I whispered.

He laughed. "Thanks."

"No, I mean, your skin, it's really...it's really warm..." I felt another blush creeping up my cheeks.

He blushed along with me. "Oh," he murmured, the ghost of a smile on his perfect mouth. I remembered studying his uneven lips. I smiled to myself.

"Dylan," I started, brushing my thumb along his jaw, "do you have feelings for someone else? Like, someone who isn't Max?"

He blushed more, then tried hiding his face in his pillow. It was beyond cute. My hand was in his hair now, so I coaxed my fingers into its soft golden strands. "Um, kind of...," he admitted, voice muffled by the plushness of the pillow. I grinned.

"Who?" I sounded excited. I was shocked he hadn't guessed my feelings by now. Or maybe he had, just not aloud.

He peeked a turquoise eye out at me, grin on the side of his mouth, blush making his face blood red. He was so adorable. I could barely contain myself. Luckily, I did. "I can't tell you," he said quietly. His smile faded. "You'd judge me. Just like everyone else would if they knew." He full-out frowned.

I frowned, too. How could he think I'd judge him? That was the last thing I'd want to do. I thought Dylan was awesome. He was my best friend. I was kind of hurt knowing that he thought I'd judge him. "I wouldn't judge you, dude. You can tell me..."

He shrugged. I decided to let it go. "Will you tell me when you're comfortable to?"

He nodded, smiling up at me.

I decided that that was enough for me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ahhhh, I bet you thought that they were gonna kiss. :D Patience! :D It is coming soon! But how soon? :oo As always, R&Rs appreciated! Read on! -throws cookies-**


	15. Falling

**Dylan**

I left the hotel at nine AM, when Fang went to work.

As I was flying home, I thought. I thought about how after this, everything would be weird with the flock and Max would undoubtedly be very upset for days. Ig and Gazzy and Nudge would give me those cold, hard, calculating looks. Angel would lecture me. I could almost hear her sweet little lilt, turned angry and wise beyond her years. "You could've suffered a little while longer, Dylan. Don't tell me you couldn't have. You know that you'd have started loving her." Only, the truth was, I wouldn't have.

I thought about Fang. And my seemingly growing feelings toward him. It was so weird to me, so foreign. Feelings for him. Feelings for my soon-to-be-ex's ex. Yikes. The past few weeks had been rough, what with all the sneaking out and being stressed. If my hair were as dark as Fang's, I surely would've found a ton of grays.

Ugh. This had all turned into one big sloppy mess. Somehow, I felt that I would be the one left to clean all of it up.

My angst was _so_ getting to me. I was starting to feel like one of those pathetic teenage girls that you see on Lifetime movies that always seem to mess things up, and when they try to fix the messes they've made or caused, they make it into an _even bigger_ mess.

After I broke it off with Max, would I have my friends anymore? Would Nudge talk my ear off about Justin Bieber and Lil Wayne? Would Iggy still crack jokes with me while the girls were getting their monthly visits from Aunt Flo? Would any of them actually acknowledge my presence at all after this, or would they treat me the way a nobleman treats peasants? Quite frankly, Max was their one and only mom. Which made it worse. I knew how hard this would be for me, even though my feelings toward Max were minimal.

Heck, I practically saw them all as my siblings! Sheesh. On top of being a freaky birdkid mutant clone, I had a shit ton of drama and angst in my life. Urgh.

I sighed, trying not to chug away too far in my train of thought, otherwise I'd miss the house (wouldn't have been the first time). As I plopped to the ground, I shoved my hands deep into my white sweatshirt pockets and shivered. November was almost over. There was snow and it was blisteringly cold.

This couldn't wait any longer. It had to be done. Running a hand through my windblown hair, I waltzed into the house.

When I entered the room, everyone fell silent. Nudge was automatically glaring at me. She whispered something to Iggy, whose eyes mirrored Nudge's and were creepily glaring at me. Directly at me. I fidgeted. Gazzy and Angel just looked at me, eyes full of disdain and confusion. Yet, Max was nowhere to be found. "Where's Max?" My voice shocked me, surprisingly confident. Clear. Loud.

Nudge hopped off the couch, dark brown eyes searching my face coldly. Even her voice was cold, hard. "Why do you want to know? do you just want to make her cry her heart out again?"

Ig nodded and smirked, whispering something that sounded like, "That's my girl..."

She shot him a gleaming, pearly smile. Her eyes turned back on me and her smile failed, drooping down into a snarl, almost. Her eyes went from molten chocolate to cold, hard stone. "Well?" The impatience on her face was being played out in her tone.

"I need to discuss important things with her. I need to have a long talk with her. You out of all people should know that I mean no harm, Nudge."

She grazed her brown eyes over me coldly, but I could see a flicker of caring. "Yeah, okay, whatever. She's in her room."

I nodded politely at her, walking through the living room hurriedly. I rushed to the room, flinging the door open. I wanted to get this done and over with. She was lying in bed, curled up under the white comforter. Her eyes stared straight ahead of her, which was my dresser and part of the wall. "Nudge?" she croaked out, voice hoarse. I winced from the pain that I heard and wondered if she sounded hoarse from screaming...

"No. Dylan," I murmured, taking a few steps in and shutting the door quietly behind me.

She instantly stiffened (the way she used to when the flock would mention Erasers). There were a few moments of silence, which passed slowly. They felt like hours, days, instead of mere seconds. The tension in the room was too strong. It polluted the air, almost like humidity, made you feel like you couldn't breathe. I hated it. And then finally, she repeated blandly: "Dylan."

That was all that she'd said.

I crept slowly and silently over to the bed despite the fact that she already knew I was here. I sat on the edge of the bed farthest from her. We shared a brief glance, then my eyes guiltily flicked down to my hands. "Max," I heard myself say. "I need to talk to you. I swear that I'm civil this time. And I'm insanely sorry."

She didn't say anything, and when I glanced at her again, she nodded gently, urging me on. I nearly flinched at how calm she was. Maybe she knew what was coming, and wanted to hit it calmly, head on. "I...Max...I just...I can't...do this anymore. You're more bipolar without Fang here to tether all of our emotions down. You and I, Max...you and I don't work. Hence yesterday. I hope you understand why I've decided to do this. I love, you Maximum. I just don't love you in that way...anymore. I promise you I used to. I just don't anymore. It's not like that with you.

"You're my best friend, Max. You're not my lover, you're not my second half. Not my soulmate. We aren't right for each other, love. And that's why I'm doing this. We're not right together. I'll move into Fang's old room. I really am sorry. I truly am. I wish that there were another way for me to do this, a gentler and less painful way, but there isn't and I'm sorry..."

Unshed tears wet her short eyelashes. She sniffled. I met her gaze, giving her a flat smile. "Okay, Dylan." Her voice cracked, but became stronger. "I understand. You're right. Dylan, I love you. Really. But they say if you love someone, you should let them go, so..." The flock leader's face crumpled as she began to quietly cry. I said nothing, just put an arm around her and kissed her head.

I moved my things into Fang's room without assistance. I figured if I asked for help, I'd be junk punched, so I did it alone. Surprisingly easy. Turns out, I have less things than I thought. Most of the stuff in our room was Max's.

When I opened Fang's door, it was the first time that it had been opened in over a month. It was strange, because the room looked exactly the same: black walls, white carpet (which he loathed, no doubt), his closet with all of his favorite clothes and the dresser with the less liked clothes (including the suit he'd worn to Total and Akila's wedding). His bed was unmade as per usual, one of his pillows sideways. Funny, I'd never seen him sleep that way. On his nightstand was a small reading lamp and a novel. _Looking For Alaska _by John Green. Huh. Fang never struck me as the reading type. There were a pair of pajama pants on the floor.

Yet, it felt like a ghost was floating out of the room. It was so creepy without Fang there. I shuddered to myself and put away my clothes in the empty drawers of his dresser. I was plugging my phone into its charger when it beeped at me. Fang was calling me. My thumb hovered over the green answer button. But I couldn't talk to him. Not yet. I'd do plenty of talking later. "Sorry," I mumbled, as if he could hear me somehow.

I stayed in the room for a while, cleaning up Fang's mess of dirty laundry littering the floor, making his bed, dusting. When I was done, I sat on the bed and fluffed the pillows absentmindedly. My eyes landed back on _Looking For Alaska_. Upon instinct, I grabbed it off the nightstand and leafed through it briefly then read the back. It sounded mildly entertaining, so I started reading. I'm not usually a reader, but I read the entire book within three hours. About ten seconds before I finished, Angel knocked on my door. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of ugly crying. Snot and all. It was really disgusting. "Dylan! It's dinnertime! Iggy's got lasagna!"

"Yeah, yeah, be right there," I said, raising my voice, despite its cracking and unevenness. I didn't even dare to tear my eyes from the book. "Reading."

"Okaaaay..." She walked down the hall loudly.

I managed to regain my composure and blew my nose on conveniently placed tissues on the nightstand. Sure, my eyes were red and I was sniffling, but I didn't care. When I entered the room, everyone just kind of looked at me like, _oh, it's you._ "Hi," I said.

"Hi," they said.

Nudge and Ig engaged in a deep conversation which involved a lot of Nudge gazing into Iggy's unseeing eyes and giggling. Gazzy and Ange were talking about exploding things and the prank Gazzy apparently tried to pull on Angel. (You think he'd know by now that his sister knows everything.) Max and I were just kind of sitting at the table, quiet. I ate my lasagna but didn't really taste it. I kept thinking about Fang. I thought I was developing feelings for him or something. Yet, I felt the same about him. I didn't really know what to translate my weird angsty teenage feels into. So when I was done, I got up, rinsed my plate off, and went back to my (Fang's) room. I stayed there, curled up under the covers, thinking about what I could possibly feel for Fang. I didn't know why I felt the way I did.

Around ten, the house fell completely silent. Everyone was asleep. I decided that it was a good time to leave and call Fang back. He hadn't left a voicemail, so I figured he hadn't needed anything too terribly. I left a note on the bed saying I'd be back if any of them really cared anymore.

Once I was out the window and airborne, I called Fang. He picked up instantly. "Dylan."

"Fang. Hey. I saw you called earlier. I'm on my way over. What'd you need when you called?"

He hesitated. "I just wanted to hear your pretty voice." He sounded shy. Which was weird. Fang never sounded shy.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll be there in a few, okay?"

"Yeah."

He hung up. _Well, that wasn't weird at all, _I thought.

When I got to the hotel, I let myself in. Fang was on his bed, sitting criss-cross-applesauce, watching some late night television.. He jumped up like an overexcited girl when he saw me. "Hey!" He pulled me into a large hug, smiling a smile so big it scared me. Because, let's face it, Fang is not one to smile like an idiot. "Did you do it? Is she out of your hair? What happened?"

I hugged him back, unable to stop the laugh that escaped my lips. "Well, hi. Yeah, I broke up with her. She cried. The flock hates me now. I moved into your old room and cleaned it. Read _Looking For Alaska_, which made me ugly cry."

He grinned and pulled away, sitting back on the bed, patting the spot next to him. I sat next to him. "They'll get over it. Oh, I have to finish that book! I forgot all about it, actually. Was it great?"

I nodded. "Like I said. Ugly cry."

"Snot and everything?"

"Lots of snot."

He shuddered.

"Fang?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel weird now. Like, toward the flock and everything. I feel like they'll never accept me again because I hurt Max. You know what I mean? Like, Nudge won't even look at me without cutting me up in her brain about eighteen times." I cracked my knuckles. Fang did the same.

He met my eyes, his own twinkling with something that looked like a glimmer of hope. "Like I said. They'll get over it. Trust me, after I left and came back, the only one that didn't give me the cold shoulder was Max. After a while, they accepted it. They were mad for a few days, but eh. Just wait it out. Plus, Nudge can't stay mad at anyone. Seriously."

I smiled at him. "Whoever knew you'd be so good with advice, Fangles?"

His smiley eyes disappeared and they sliced me instead. "Don't ever call me Fangles again. Unless you wish to be castrated."

Of course I had to do it again. I'm such a smartass. "Fangl-"

He tackled me onto the bed, hands grasping my wrists tightly, his whole body weight pressing down on me. I was pinned down. Underneath Fang. His inky hair hung close to my face, tickling my forehead. He just looked down at me for a minute. It was one long minute. His muscles were pressing down on me in all the right places, so I was comfortable underneath him. His face looked so flawless and soft. The pressure on my wrists was minimal. He trusted that I wouldn't try to break free and kick his face in. His shirt was a v-neck, which hung off his body, allowing me to see the hard, lean muscles of his chest. Even enveloped in darkness, his body was perfect and flawless and gorgeous.

Of course, he noticed me checking him out. "Like what you see?" he teased.

I felt my face fill with a deep blush. We both gulped at the same time. He cracked a smile at that. The sexual tension was like really bad humidity. Thick and making it hard to breathe right. Our breaths were shallow then deep then shallow again. "I guess there's something I should tell you," Fang said quietly.

"What...what's that?" I managed to ask.

Something flickered behind his eyes. It was hope again. "It's complicated and you're going to probably never think of me the same way again, but...you have to know. You have every right to know..."

"Just tell me, Fang. I'm not allowed to judge you. You're my best friend."

He took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. All was silent for a moment, then he opened his eyes slowly, this new light to them. My stomach fluttered with my heart. His soft grasp on my wrists turned into a clench. "I'm falling in love with you, Dylan."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: How many of you hate me for ending the chapter here? :D By the way, I'm sorry the update took so long. I've been distracted by The Fault in Our Stars and Bloodrose and John Green's vlogs and other writings and ohmygod. Ugh. Perhaps the next update will be sooner? I will try, beloved readers. I will try.**


	16. Cartoons and First Kisses

**Fang**

As soon as those stupid, stupid, stupid words were out of my mouth, I felt like an idiot for about a nanosecond, because in that nanosecond, Dylan crushed his lips to mine. I couldn't control my emotions that flooded past the dam I'd created. I was excited. I was shocked. _This is really happening. I'm on top of Dylan, pinning him down, and he's kissing me. I am kissing Dylan. Dylan is kissing me. _My thoughts shot out in every direction, not sure where to go.

His lips moved against mine in a fervor. I kissed him back intensely, hands tracing themselves up his lean arms, knitting themselves into his soft blond hair, pulling him closer to me. I couldn't get enough of him. He was everywhere. His face, his turquoise eyes, angular jaw, cutely uneven lips tattooed onto the backs of my eyelids. His soft hands were on my wings, stroking the black feathers. One of his hands moved to a spot between my wings, perfectly in the middle of my back. I wasn't functioning properly by this point. The way he was rubbing between my wings made me want to arch my back and moan in pleasure.

_Damn, he's a good kisser..., _I thought. The thing is, we weren't making out. No, it was too...I don't even know the right word. It was just kissing. Somehow, it all made sense in my overly hormonal brain. Somehow, all of this felt right. Much to my disappointment, he pulled away first.

The way Dylan was looking at me wasn't the way you look at someone after you've shared your first kiss with them. His eyes weren't all ooey-gooey lovey-dovey bunches of roses and rainbows and unicorns. His eyes weren't grinning, they weren't even trying not to smile. They weren't apathetic, though, either. I realized that he was just looking at me. I realized that when you really love someone and you finally kiss them, their emotions are scattered. They feel everything from fear and confusion to love and lust. That's why Dylan seemed to be merely looking at me. He was feeling so much, he couldn't even begin to physically portray his emotions all by himself.

Then he smiled, and it was the most brilliant, perfect, gorgeous thing I'd ever seen. I couldn't hold back the grin that pulled at my lips when he looked at me like that. It almost made me blush. Then I realized, _My face is hot. I've _been _blushing._ His hands came from my back and stroked my hair. I leaned against his hand a little. "Fang," he breathed.

I smiled wider at him. His cheeks were red, too. God, he was so perfect. "Y...yeah?" came my reply through shaking lips.

His grin got wider, too. I just wanted to die. He was so perfect and adorable and UGH. My thoughts were everywhere, just like my emotions. I could barely even talk right, for crying out loud. "I love you," he said.

I closed my eyes and hid my grinning, unbearably hot face in his neck. "Dylan," I said.

The blond boy sighed in bliss and stroked my hair again. "I guess I've always loved you. I think I've finally realized why I slept with Max. I thought I was jealous of you at first for some weird reason, but you just showed me that I was really jealous of you...And I'm okay with admitting that now. I understand why I felt like Max and I never really worked. It was you all the time. I'm guessing that's why I was so worried about you after you left. I just...I don't know why I didn't realize this sooner. But I do know one thing, Fang. And that one thing is that I am completely in love with you."

My face grew hot again. His confession made me crazy. It must have been what cracked my shell of private thoughts. "Dylan," I murmured against his neck. He turned his head so we were facing each other and gazed into my eyes. I gazed back. We shared a small, private smile. "I love you, too. I've loved you ever since I saw you at the mall with the flock. I knew then that I loved you, but I kept denying it. I don't know why; I really shouldn't deny myself things, especially those that make me complete. I mean, just look at you. You're gorgeous, tall, lean...You're perfect."

He wrinkled his nose at me in response to the last part. "I'm far from perfect," he muttered, blue eyes sparkling like pools of ocean water.

I shook my head, still holding his eyes with mine. "No. I think you're perfect. Hell, you're beyond perfect. Seriously, Dylan. Go and take a good look at yourself. Think about who you are. You're perfect for me, Dylan. And that's all you need to be..."

Dylan smiled, a dimple surfacing. I'd never really noticed the dimple before. "Just like that. That dimple you have? It's perfect," I told him, kissing it delicately.

He smiled again, face turning pink. "You're perfect, too, Fang. Your wings are beautiful...they get this bluey-purpley tint in the sun and they're just beautiful...And your eyes. They're like this whole different world. You're perfect for me right down to your toes."

"My second toe is longer than my big toe," I told him stupidly.

All he did was laugh. "I just told you, you're perfect down to your toes."

"But my feet are creepy."

"Well, so are mine."

I smiled and got off of him slowly, standing up and stretching out. He laced his fingers behind his head and lay there on the bed, hair mussed, watching me. "You know," I said quietly, "you are something else."

That got me a lopsided smile. "Fang, I have never seen you smile so much in one day. Never."

I blushed. He just kept smiling and got up, too. I watched as he stretched out. His mahogany wings unfurled as he stretched them. I went around him and stood behind him, looking at his wings. They had a longer span than mine, maybe sixteen or seventeen feet. My hands went to his hips and traveled slowly up his back, onto the brown mass of feathers. They were soft and gleamed even in the yellowy-white light of the hotel room. I felt the middle, the bottom, the tops of his wings. I found, much to my excitement, that he had fluffy, downy feathers near his shoulders and the middle of his back. They were cute. I pressed my face against his left wing. "They're so soft."

The blond boy in front of me chuckled, sighing happily again. "Yours are, too. I love your wings..."

I grinned, kissing the soft feathers. "And I love yours."

We curled up on the bed, close to each other as humanly possible, even though it was a queen. I turned the TV on to Cartoon Network and we watched Adventure Time for a few minutes in complete silence. Well, Dylan watched Adventure Time. I just saw it reflected off of his eyes.

At one point, he turned and caught me looking at him. "Aren't you watching?" he asked.

I nodded. "I could see it in your eyes."

That earned me a smile as he turned his attention back to the TV, arms wrapping tighter around me. After a few more minutes of quiet, he said softly, "You know, I don't know the names of, like, any cartoons. I know Spongebob, and that's it. I couldn't even tell you what we're _watching_. Is that bad?" His eyes didn't turn toward mine at all.

"No," I assured him, not sure if there was anything else to say.

"I just feel like I'm behind everyone else because of that simple fact. Everybody knows the name of, like, every cartoon ever thought of. And I know one, basically. I feel like I'd know this stuff if I wasn't a clone, if I wasn't a fake. I feel like if I had any clue how the world or government or, morbidly, science works, I'd be normal. But I'm not. All I know about anything is that one plus one is two and my name is Dylan and the old me died in a car crash and I'm a science fair project and I'm in love with you and I can read and I'm really, really, really confused." He took in a deep breath.

I looked at him. He seemed really upset about his situation. Understandable. "Dylan," I said. "I don't know how the government or science works. I'm not normal, either. We're all science fair projects," I explained. "All of this is completely inevitable. Totally and completely inevitable. I know only a little more than you. I've never actually been in a real school for more than an approximate week. It's okay that you don't know cartoons. Trust me, it's only making us dumber every minute that we watch these pointless things. Of course, we'd be losing even more brain cells watching Jersey Shore and listening to that girl that looks like an Oompa Loompa yell at her boyfriend. We're in the same place, Dylan."

He just looked at me for a few seconds. "Thank you, Fang," he said quietly. I only smiled and nodded.

Eventually, we fell asleep in a tangle of arms and wings, watching cartoons that Dylan didn't know the names of.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, it's pretty short. SORRY D: I want to hit 3,000 words on my next chapter, so I'll try for you guys! I think the shortness and simplicity of this chapter is kind of a good thing, though. Development...right?**


	17. Sunrise

**Dylan**

I woke up to the sound of cartoon characters screaming on the television. Fang wasn't awake yet, and I was happily snuggled into the obsidian depths of his wings. They were soft and plush and I loved them. My mahogany wings were wrapped around him protectively, as if I were afraid he'd run off and leave me in the middle of the night. Of course, though, Fang wouldn't do something like that to me.

You're together now, a voice in the back of my head said. Were we, really? Were he and I really together? I almost couldn't believe it. I never thought I'd end up gay, especially not with Fang. I mean, look where I started. I was infatuated with Max. Max didn't love me. I tried to off myself. Max stopped me. Fang and Max were in love. I eventually understood that I didn't love Max. Max fell in love with me. Max told Fang. Fang didn't like it much. Fang left. I told Max I didn't love her. Max cried. I'm in love with Fang and he's in love with me. What a trip. And I'm only two.

As he slept, his deep exhales tickled my face. We were so closely intertwined that I could see dark stubble forming above his top lip and on his cheeks and chin. It was kind of sexy, to be completely honest. Wow, I thought. Not holding back your thoughts anymore, are you? It's weird how kissing the person you're in love with changes things. It changes how outgoing you are to that person, how honest you are with them, how you look at them. It's the intense emotion that you feel when you kiss the person you're in love with that really changes your perspective on things. For example, before Fang and I kissed the night before, I was very uncomfortable with calling myself gay. Of course, I was confused, too, because I didn't know at all what I wanted, but still.

Yet today, everything is different. I am one hundred percent sure I'm in love with Fang. I am one hundred percent sure that I'm gay. Maybe that's why I felt Max and I never truly worked. Because I'm gay. Or maybe it's just because Max is like a sister to me. I don't know. Either way, I'm gay.

For a few minutes more, I watched Fang sleep. His eyelids twitched rapidly in his sleep and I wondered what he was dreaming about. He whimpered a couple times, too, and shifted uncomfortably. I was nearly whimpering back. I wanted to know what was wrong, but reminded myself that he was only dreaming, and that everything would be fine. Nothing was truly going to harm him-at least not in those minutes that he was asleep. I finally decided to wake him up when his wings started ruffling.

"Fang," I whispered, clutching his hard shoulder in my hand and shaking gently. "Fang, you've gotta get up. It's only a dream. C'mon, wake up..."

With a loud grunt, he buried his face into my neck. "Mornin'," he said, yawning.

The smile that pulled at my lips could not be held back. "You had a nightmare. Are you okay, babe? What happened? You got really restless. That's why I woke you up."

He pulled away from my neck and rubbed at his eyes with clenched fists, reminding me of an oversized three-year-old. It was insanely cute. "Whitecoats and needles...and then they took you away from me..." Fang shuddered, opening his gorgeous obsidian eyes for the first time that morning. They were endless and spiraling, mysterious. That's one of the things I loved about Fang. His beautiful night eyes.

Brushing his stubbly cheek with my thumb lightly, I assured him that it would be fine and that I was still here. "Here to stay," I added quickly.

The boy nuzzled my shoulder affectionately. "Good. That means you don't love and leave."

"Fang, I would never leave you. Not even for a million dollars."

"I'd never leave you, not even for my biological parents. And trust me, that's saying something. I want so badly to know my parents...Shit! What time is it? I have work today! Shitshitshit!" He ninjaed out of bed. The alarm clock read 8:15. _You're a teenager. Why do you get up so early?_ I thought to myself.

The greedy part of me wanted Fang to stay home from work today. The greedy part of me spoke. "Fang, you shouldn't go to work today. Stay here with me and we can go have some fun today. We can go food shopping and get breakfast..." All I got in reply was a pointed look, one that said, _And what do I get out of this? I can't just skip work._ "I won't ask you to call in anymore," I pleaded desperately. "Please, Fang. Just for today. I'm begging you."

He smiled at me, not showing his teeth. "For as pathetic as your begging is, I think I'll have to stay home," he told me. I grinned ear to ear. "You're lucky I love you, Dylan Matthew."

I frowned, confused. "Dylan Matthew?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, smirking. "I made you a middle name. Matthew."

"Why Matthew?"

"Because I like the name Matthew."

Fair enough. I nodded. "Alright. And I'll call you Fang Joseph," I teased, sitting up and poking him in the chest.

His wings ruffled again and he growled playfully. "Joseph?" he asked, poking me back.

"Joseph," I answered with finality, poking his cheek.

The grin I got from that was enormous. I have never seen Fang smile so widely. "You're adorable," he told me quietly, leaning forward, forehead resting on mine.

"As are you" was my quiet reply. The grin was still stretched over his perfect, white teeth. In that moment, I just wanted to pull him into my arms and kiss him and never stop kissing him.

I guess the feeling was mutual, because Fang put his arms around me and pulled me against him so our chests were touching and our breath mingling. The way he was looking at me made my toes tingle. In one swift movement, his lips were on mine, kissing me soft and slow and sweet. The tingling in my toes increased and started in the tips of my fingers. I placed a hand on his neck, kissing him attentively. Our hearts beat more erratically than they normally did. I could feel Fang's pulse thrumming under my hand.

The passion in our kisses was intense, and when I welcomed his soft, warm tongue into my mouth, the way our hot breaths met made the tingling in my fingers even worse. I let out a deep moan as Fang's tongue explored the inside of my mouth and mine did the same to his. I didn't care that he tasted like stale morning, I only cared about him, here, in my arms, kissing me, our tongues stroking together softly. He groaned just as I pulled away.

We sat in silence for a few moments, breathing heavily, gazing into each other's eyes, smiling like idiots. "I love you," he murmured, pecking me gently on the lips.

"I love you, too," I told him, stroking his curly black hair. He sighed contentedly.

"So," I said. "Shall we go down to the lobby for breakfast? I'm starving."

Fang nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'm going to brush my teeth and shower and get dressed and shave first though," he told me, rubbing my hand.

"Right behind you," I replied.

We brushed our teeth together and I watched Fang shave. It was kind of funny, since he kept cutting himself. "Fang," I said, grinning widely, "shouldn't you be better at shaving your face? I mean, you are seventeen..."

He glared at me like he wanted to smack the grin right off my face. "I didn't start shaving until I was sixteen, okay? It's not my fault I was a late bloomer!" Then he pouted adorably.

My grin only got wider. Sure, I was afraid of the Death Glare, but Fang wouldn't hurt me. Maybe playfully, but not purposely. I knew that much. "That's kind of cute," I told him, biting my lip shyly and watching him go back to shaving his face.

I sat on the bathroom counter and talked to him while he showered, barely letting him get a word in. At one point, over the running water, he said "Dylan, you sound like Nudge. You're just blahblahblah. You don't stop talking."

I blushed even though he was behind the shower door. "Oh...sorry. Do you want me to stop?"

"Nah," he replied. "I like hearing your voice."

Once I was out of the shower and dressed (in Fang's clothes because stupid me didn't think to bring any), we went down to the lobby. The receptionist looked up at us and smiled. "Hello," she said. "Can I help you two?"

"Yeah," Fang said quietly. "Any place in the hotel to get breakfast?"

He barely noticed her nearly swooning at almost every word that came out of his mouth. "Yes, there's one...down that hallway to the, uhm, the...the right!"

Fang nodded. "Thank you."

When we were halfway down the hallway, I said, "You almost had her falling over up at the counter. I think she liked you." A smirk pulled at my lips.

Fang's brow furrowed. "Did I really?" he asked, looking over his shoulder as if expecting her to still be there. She wasn't.

"Yeah."

"I didn't even notice."

We walked into the restaurant, which didn't look half bad. There were small, dark wooden circular tables and matching chairs. There was a huge breakfast buffet thing at the front of the room and menus at every seat. It was empty except for us. We sat at a table almost directly in the middle of the room. In silence, we flipped through the menus. A waitress named Jessie came and got our drinks after a few minutes. "Well, howdy, earlybirds!" she greeted us cheerfully, cheeks blushing pink. She had long dirty blond hair held up in a ponytail and bright blue eyes and a Southern accent.

"Hey," we said in unison, giving her a slight wave. I smiled at her. She seemed nice enough.

"And what can I get ya'll to drink this mornin'?" asked Jessie, pen hovering above her pad of paper.

Fang went first. "I'll have a water."

She nodded at him, scribbling furiously before turning to me. "And you, sunshine?"

"I'll have a chocolate milk."

That made her smile. "Comin' right up for you two cuties!"

Fang grinned at her as she walked away. "She was nice. A lot less creepy than Roger," I told him, making him laugh.

"Definitely," he agreed.

We shared a private smile, a smile that meant more to the both of us than it would have if we'd been smiling at anyone else. Fang blushed and looked away, eyes dropping to his menu. "So, what are you getting?" he asked timidly. It was adorable, the shyness, the insecurity that bled into his voice.

I looked around on the menu for a few more seconds before responding. "Two orders of french toast and bacon."

He grinned at me, glancing back at his. "I was thinking the same," he told me.

A few minutes later, Jessie appeared again, water with a lemon wedge in one hand and a chocolate milk in the other. "Water for you, Mr. Strong and Silent, and chocolate milk for you, sunshine!" She took our orders, eyes nearly popping out of her head when we said four orders of french toast with bacon. "What big appetites you boys've got!" she exclaimed, her Southern drawl making her words sound longer than they really were.

We didn't talk a whole lot while we were waiting for our food, and that was fine. We mostly gazed at each other, occasionally smiling or making a snarky comment to one another. Jessie had just arrived with our french toast when we leaned across the table and brushed our lips delicately across one another's. "Oh," she gasped. We nearly leapt apart, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb ya two! You're so cute together! Ohmygosh, I never would have thought that you were...wow, it's so...so...so cute!"

We all laughed. Fang and I thanked Jessie for our food and ate like we hadn't eaten in weeks. When I was done, I dropped my fork and downed the rest of my chocolate milk like a shot, then let out a long burp. Fang looked up at me, eyes bugging out. "Oh, my GOD. I don't think I have ever heard you burp before. That. Was. Amazing."

I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh. "Only you would get excited over a freaking burp. Weirdo."

He shrugged. "I like my boys to burp. It's kinky," he said sarcastically, sending me a wink. I felt my face flush.

After that, we didn't say much of anything, really. We were quiet, and for once, I was comfortable with that. We were comfortable together in the quiet because we trusted each other, finally. We were comfortable because we were in love.

Once we finished eating at the restaurant (which didn't have terrible food, either), we went grocery shopping at Wal-Mart and brought it back to the hotel so Fang didn't have to go out and get food every night. "You know," he said after we walked out into the frigid end-of-November air, "I'm surprised I haven't been fired yet, what with all the days I haven't shown up."

I smiled. "Me too. Your boss must like you," I told him.

He grinned. "Yeah, he does. He says I'm the best mechanic there and that he wouldn't fire me unless I became a cocaine junkie."

Laughing, I turned the corner to the hotel. We were only a few blocks away. "Well, don't become a cocaine junkie," I demanded, my free hand brushing his. I glanced up at him to find him gazing shyly at me. We made eye contact and grasped each other's hands.

"I won't. Promise." He squeezed my hand, reminding me of Iggy.

"Well, good. Hey, Fang, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What did it feel like, being in love the first time for you?" I edged closer to him, rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb.

He hesitated and thought for a few seconds before replying. We had just crossed the road and were about to walk into the hotel when he began to answer me. "I don't really know how to explain it," he murmured, biting his lip.

"Try your hardest," I urged, nudging his shoulder with mine and letting go of his hand to open the door of the hotel.

Fang shrugged. "I don't exactly know. I'd been in love with Max since we were in dog crates. Hers was next to mine and she had these huge brown doe eyes that were honestly too big for her face. But it was adorable. I knew I was in love with her once I realized what close attention I paid to her, when I noticed the way she tilts her head when she doesn't quite understand what you're saying, or how when she's happy, her eyes just get this indescribable light to them..." He shook his head. "I felt like despite the fact that I knew everything about her, I needed to know more. I needed more information to feed my brain." He tapped a finger against my temple softly. "That's as well as I can describe it..."

I blinked at him a few times and sped up, walking a few feet ahead of him. I held the elevator door open for him while he maintained his normal pace. He smiled at me as he sauntered into the box. Something tickled me in my stomach. I shuddered, waiting impatiently for the elevator to stop on our floor. When it did, I shot out fast and zipped to the door. Something stirred again in my stomach.

"Dylan," Fang called as I slid my key into the slot. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

"You didn't do a thing!" I exclaimed excitedly, flinging the door open and running back to him, grabbing his hand, and dragging him into our room.

"What has gotten into you? Gosh, Dylan, I don't think I've ever seen you so-"

And I kissed him for the third time since last night, cutting him off. I just loved him more than anything. He needed to know that and I didn't want to tell him. I wanted to show him. I kissed him softly, and just quickly, lasting a millisecond longer than a peck, but short enough to not be a passionate kiss.

"I love you," I told him, shaking the blond hair out of my eyes.

He only smiled, eyes glimmering. Typical Fang.

**Fang**

Later that night, I took Dylan up to the roof of the hotel to watch the sunset. "Did you know sunset and sunrise only last ten minutes?" he inquired as we walked up the stairs, hand in hand.

"No, I didn't," I replied, smiling to myself. His intelligence was adorable.

He let go of my hand and bounded to the edge of the rooftop, unfurling his giant mahogany wings. He sighed. I sat on the edge, legs dangling, unfurling my wings as well. "It's beautiful," he said slowly.

"I never watched the sunset with Max," I admitted.

He sat next to me now, legs dangling too. His left one rubbed gently against mine. It was cold, so I leaned into him a bit. He smelled like Irish Spring soap. He sighed happily, the faint scent of fruit on his breath, tantalizing my nose. The smell made me hungry again.

With Dylan sitting next to me, my head on his shoulder as we watched the sun set in silence, everything felt perfect. We watched the sky morph from yellow-blue to orange-yellow to orange-yellow-pink to orange-pink. As it got darker, it got colder. And as it got colder, we got closer. By the time the sun was down and our world was gray, we were huddled together, our warm breath making little smoke clouds.

"Hey, look, I'm a dragon!" exclaimed the angel sitting next to me. He blew out a big breath and yelled "Roar!" I grinned.

"You're adorable."

He nudged my cheek with his ski-slope nose. "Looked in the mirror lately?"

I felt my cheeks warm. "It makes me feel special when you talk to me like that," I said stupidly.

Dylan grinned. "Good. It's my job."

We shivered almost in unison. "It's getting cold," I muttered. "We should go inside."

He nodded, kissing my cheek. "I should really get home. I might not be with Max anymore, but the flock still needs me. I'll come back, maybe tomorrow or the day after. Promise," he told me, his turquoise eyes sparkling.

We held each other in front of my room's door for a long time before he kissed me goodbye, just a peck on the lips. Once he was gone, I went into my room and lay in bed, mouth tingling. I attempted to contain my shudders as I replayed our passionate kissing from this morning over and over and over in my head.

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><p><strong>AN: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THAT LONG TO UPDATE. D: I got writer's block, plus I've been reading books (I just finished City of Bones and I'm reading Clockwork Angel right now. Cassandra Clare is amazing ajsdfadjlafn). But anyway, this is the longest chapter yet (3,437 words, not including the author's note. Thank you readers for not getting angry with me! R&Rs appreciated, as always! -throws brownies because cookies aren't good enough for the wait I've put you through-**


	18. Confession

**Dylan**

An approximate twenty minutes after sundown, I arrived at home, crawling in through Fang's old bedroom window and emerging from the room to see how everyone was doing. Max was in the hallway at the same time I was. She brushed nonchalantly past me. That was it? No screaming, scolding, yelling? Not even eye contact? It was weird how quickly someone could decide that they no longer cared...

_You should tell her,_ Angel whispered to me mentally. The mindspeak never failed to creep me out. _Tell her now, or I will._

Angel was right. I spun on my heel, tennis shoe squealing against the hardwood floor. "Max," I said quietly, catching up with her in three long strides. Her wings ruffled like a cat's fur when it was pissed. She turned around, bourbon brown eyes flashing with anger and curiosity.

"Yes?" The leader had her arms crossed on her chest, hands cradling her elbows.

"I...I need to tell you something."

She gulped, and I could see a worried look cross her face for half a second. "Yeah?"

I hesitated. "I know where Fang is. That's where I've been going all the time. I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner."

Anger sparked frighteningly behind Max's eyes. "You're telling me you've known where he was all this time! Why wouldn't you tell me!"

Closing my eyes, I took a slow, deep breath and then exhaling slowly. "He thought you hated him. He considered suicide more than once. He loved you more than anything, you know. You used to be his world. After saying you didn't love him anymore, he shattered. So I helped him.

"We became close friends really fast, since I was all he had. We'd talk for hours. About you, him, everything. There's something else I've got to tell you, too."

Somewhere in that speech I had reopened my eyes. Max didn't say anything, but did stare at me with intense incredulity. "Fang and I...kind of fell in love."

Max's eyes got the size of dinner platters. "You mean...you're gay...?"

A blush crept to my cheeks and down my neck. "Yeah," I replied, wishing the burning blush in my cheeks would cease. It didn't. "That's why I was acting so weird all the time and why I was so uptight and bitchy. I didn't know I was falling in love, I guess, and it was the first time I really had. That's why I had to break it off. I didn't feel right with you and Fang just made me feel on top of the world."

Max made a face, a mix between hurt and amusement. "You should have just told me, Dylan. I wouldn't have judged you and I totally would have understood that better."

"I...I didn't know," I stammered. She only smiled.

Placing a hand on my shoulder, she said, "Don't worry. I totally get it. We're cool." And with that, she walked coolly down the hallway, closing her bedroom door softly behind her. Which left me standing in the middle of the dark hallway like an idiot, face burning.

_I told her,_ I thought to _Angel. Is she upset?_

_No, she's actually just glad you told her the honest truth._

I let out a sigh of relief, making my way out to the kitchen. I searched around for a few minutes and settled for a huge bag of cool ranch Doritos...which I ate all of in one sitting. Grabbing a water from the fridge, I went out to the living room, making a mental note to tell Max we were low on food. "Max?" Iggy called out, hearing me enter the room.

"Dylan, actually," Nudge answered for me.

Ig's face fell. "Oh."

_Should I tell them, too?_ I asked Angel.

_Yes._

"So, guys. I have some...news. It's not _new_ news, exactly, though."

Suddenly, all of their eyes were on me, as if to say, "Yes?"

I took a long swig of water before talking. "I've been hanging out with Fang when I've been gone."

"What!" shrilled Nudge.

I smacked my hands over my ears, wincing. "Jeesh, simmer down and let me finish!"

"Sorry." At least she wasn't looking at me like I was the Antichrist anymore.

"I've helped him through his depression since Max said she didn't love him. We became-"

"Is that why he left?" asked Gazzy. Iggy shushed him.

I picked back up. "We became best friends and talked about literally everything under the sun. We're, uhm...kind of...together...now."

Iggy held up a hand. "Wait. You're gay?"

Facepalm. "Yes."

Everyone in the room welcomed an awkward silence. "So is he coming back, then?" Nudge asked quietly, hope leaking into her voice.

"I don't know," I said. "He doesn't know that I've come clean yet, so I'm not sure. I can ask him. I think he can bear it now, now that he's not in love with Max anymore. And I know for a fact that he misses you guys. Fang might be quiet most of the time, but he hates being alone, truly alone." I remembered once how he'd called me at two in the morning, hyperventilating and crying.

"I'm alone," he'd said. We'd talked until at least four-thirty, when his breathing became less shallow and his crying had ceased. Finally, he'd fallen asleep while I told him a story about Angel and Gazzy trying to make cupcakes on Iggy's birthday and how Iggy had freaked out because he knew the little ones were in his kitchen, making food with his oven. Even though he'd been there, he wanted to hear the story, he wanted to remember it. With me. He fell asleep just as I was nearing the end of the story, his breathing even and soft. When I noticed this, I smiled and whispered a goodnight into the receiver.

All of the other kids had tears in their eyes. The only one who didn't have a silver mark down his face was Iggy, but his unseeing eyes were glassy. It was obvious how much we all cared for one another in the flock. You didn't have to be Einstein to realize that. There was a choked noise from the doorway, and we all turned to see Max standing there, tears flowing silently down her face. "Hey, it's okay," I said, standing and walking over to hold my best friend in my arms. She pressed her face into my shoulder and cried quietly.

Eventually all of us were doing the same thing. Iggy and Nudge were wrapped together on the couch, faces pressed into one another's necks. Gazzy and Angel were hugging on the floor in front of the television, Gazzy's head resting upon Angel's, their golden hair shining.

After a few minutes, they were all calmed down, with red, puffy eyes and sniffly noses. I slung an arm around Max's shoulders, leading her to the couch. She rose up on her toes and whispered in my ear, "Thank you."

I don't exactly know what she was thanking me for, but I nodded and sat down next to her. She curled up, lying opposite from me, a pillow in her arms. It wasn't normal for any of us to see Max cry. She was our mother, our leader. All the kids surrounded her, patting her shoulder or touching her face. I realized that she could have thanked me for just being honest with everyone and telling the truth instead of lying more and fueling everyone's negative energy. It was true that everyone had been in a rather dark mood for the past month or so.

It had only taken me a month to fall in love. A month to transition Fang's resentment for me and his depression into utter happiness. I knew how happy he was now, and I felt proud to know that it was because of me.

The kids stayed circled around Max, talking to her in delicate whispers, calming her down. I kept my hand on her smooth calf, massaging it in a comforting manner. It only took her about ten minutes to fall asleep, her mouth open just the tiniest bit, her chest rising and falling slowly. Finally, our stressed out flock leader got some peace. I smiled down at my best friend's sleeping form, then got a folded up blanket from next to the couch and covered her with it, then slid a pillow under her head.

"Hey, guys. It's getting to be around that time...especially for you, Angel. Come on, let's brush our teeth and say our goodnights and get to bed, alright? And be quiet so you don't disturb Max. She's had a rough couple of days and she's exhausted."

Nudge smiled at me, grabbed Iggy's hand and stood up from her kneeling position in front of Max. They walked over to me while Gazzy and Angel headed to the bathroom. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for being rude before, Dylan. I thought you just dumped Max because you kind of, I don't know, felt like breaking her heart like some kind of douchebag that I've seen on reality TV. Now I've realized that life-our lives especially- are a lot more sensible than reality television. I'm glad that you were open and honest with us, and I'm very happy for you and Fang." That was the first time Nudge had spoken in a while that hadn't been about her pop music idols. Her maturity surprised me.

Iggy nodded, agreeing with Nudge. She looked at him and smiled. "Thank you very much, Nudge. So are you two a couple now?" I asked, gesturing to Iggy and then back to her.

Blush rose in both of their cheeks. "Oh," she said. "Is it that noticeable?"

Ig laughed quietly. "Well, we haven't exactly been keeping it a secret, my dear Nudge."

I smiled at both of them and shook my head. "Alright, alright, off to bed with both of you, lovebirds."

They grinned and walked away, hand in hand.

**Fang**

My phone went off just as I turned my laptop on for some late night blogging about an hour or so after Dylan left. I muted the TV, looking at my phone. Dylan. I smiled, then accepted the call. "Dylan," I said.

I could almost hear him grinning. "Hi. How's everything been since I left?"

Typical Dylan, always acting so adorable. "It's been fine," I said, lifting my shoulder up to keep the phone at my ear while I typed in my password. "I watched my very first episode of that Jersey Shore show Nudge watches all the time. I think she should stop watching it. I lost about a thousand brain cells in just the first five minutes."

Dylan laughed adorably on the other line. "Fang, I didn't even know that you had two brain cells to rub together," he said mockingly. I grinned widely, shaking my head as I logged onto my blog.

There were always stupid questions that I got, like "What toothpaste do you use?" or "What is your favorite breakfast cereal?" Then came my personal favorites, the anonymous ones that went something along the lines of "i want u to ride me until i have bruises all over my body. when can we meet up and make this happen?" One, we aren't going to meet up and make this happen. Two, I don't exactly like people whose faces I can't see. Three, learn proper English. Please.

"Now you're just mocking me," I told him. "Really, it's unfair."

"Me, mock you? Fang, I can't believe you think that I'd do that!" I couldn't help but picture him lying in bed, hand pressed over his heart in mock astonishment.

Dylan. Lying in bed. I pushed the thought away before my longing could intensify. "Oh, but you just did, my dear Dylan."

I heard him sigh happily and we sat in a few comfortable moments of silence. "I miss the flock," I blurted out, shutting my laptop and plugging it into the charger.

"I know...they miss you too."

I can't say I was shocked as I climbed under the puffy white covers of my bed. "They do?"

"Yeah. I told them everything, about how we were together now and all that. I told Max first and she totally understood, and then I told the kids. They all really want you to come back. Pretty much everyone started crying except for I sent everyone to bed because Max fell asleep on the couch."

My heart raced. So we really were together? I couldn't help but feel giddy. And then it hit me that he'd said everyone wanted me back. "They really do? They want me back?" I asked excitedly. I rolled onto my side on the bed, smiling.

"Yeah. They wanted me to ask you to come back. So, I guess here's me asking you to come back. Do you think you can? If you're not ready, we can all wait a while. They've gone without you this long."

My emotions were everywhere. I didn't know what to say. Should I go? Should I wait? I answered after a few minutes of thinking. "I'll come back," I said slowly. "Coming back means I get to be around my family again. And it means being around you all the time..." My face flushed even though he wasn't in the room with me.

"Okay!" he exclaimed. "When are you coming back? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I replied.

We were both really excited and it was obvious. I couldn't wait to be back around my family and be constantly around Dylan. I wouldn't be in this stupid hotel room anymore, paying 25 cents to wash my clothes, being alone almost all the time, paying to sleep in a comfy bed, watching boring sitcoms and sitting on my ass. Maybe you're thinking, as you read this, "Don't you have to be blood to be a family?" Hell, no. A family is a group of people who have always been there for each other, a group of people that love each other like brother and sister. A family most definitely does not have to be blood. At all.

"Well," Dylan said, yawning, "I'm getting pretty tired. I'm gonna go to bed, alright? Give me a call before you leave tomorrow. I love you."

"Alright," I replied, smiling. "I love you, too."

We hung up.

I turned my light off and just laid in bed for a while, thinking good thoughts before I drifted off to sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: I bet you all hated me for that wait. I hated myself for it, too. xD I have been reading so much and I've been really distracted. I'm sorry! Don't hate me! D: Anyone who's read The Mortal Instruments, message me if you think I should make a fanfic for it? I'm considering it, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I hoped you liked this c: R&Rs appreciated! :D**


	19. Raw

******A/N: I know, I know. It's been a long while :s I finally got around to this, and I actually LOVE this chapter. It's one of my favorites. Anyway, I have sad news for everyone. This story is coming to a close soon. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue. I love all of you who have had faith in this story! The reviews keep me going.**

**Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Fang<strong>

When I woke up, the first thing I thought of was Dylan. I could feel the warmth of the sunlight on my face and decided it was probably early morning. I sat up, stretching myself out and rubbing at my eyes. My wings were sore, which probably meant I had slept on my back. So I stretched them out, too.

I was looking forward to the day. I had only my clothes to pack up, really, so I cleaned up the hotel room and crammed my things into a bag. When I checked my phone, it said 12:06 pm. I had slept way in, unusual for me. I rubbed at my eyes again and raked a hand through my hair, realizing that it felt absolutely disgusting. How long had it been since I showered? I shuddered, went into the bathroom, stripped my clothes off, and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water trickle down my body.

Scrubbing ferociously down my body, I started thinking about the flock. That was when I discovered how nervous I was about it. They'd think I was the same old Fang...right? I bit my lip, rinsing myself off and moving my hands up to cleanse my hair. What if they thought I had changed in the past month? I shooed all of the thoughts away, reminding myself that it was unhealthy to think that way.

Besides, I had been with the flock forever. They'd embrace small changes...I hoped.

After I got out of the shower, I dried myself off and threw my clothes back on. I shook my hair out, hoping it would dry a little before I left. Probably not. Humming to myself, I dialed Dylan's number and waited for him to answer. "Hello!" he chirped after the third ring. My breath caught in my throat. Hearing his voice caused any of my prior worries to fly away. There was an awkward silence from me, being lost in my thoughts. I felt embarrassed when he asked, "Fang? Are you there, babe?"

_Babe._

It took a moment to process that, too.

No one had ever called me babe. I liked it.

More silence ensued.

"Faaannnnggg...?"

I blinked, shaking myself mentally. "Yeah, sorry, I'm here. I just...uhm...yeah..."

"Something wrong?" He sounded worried. It was adorable. I couldn't help but smile a little.

I sighed happily into the receiver, envisioning myself wrapping my arms around him and sharing my body heat. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm just kinda...sorta...nervous," I mumbled, fidgeting with my jeans pocket.

Dylan laughed, a sound that had been my soundtrack for the last few weeks. I wanted to hear it over and over. It was like your favorite song; no matter how many times you listened to it or heard it, you never got sick of it. "Why would you be nervous?"

I shrugged. "I'm just nervous. I don't really know why."

"C'mon babe, it'll be fine. Don't be nervous. The flock's actually really excited to see you. It's all I've heard about all morning. Just come home, alright?" He was so reassuring. I smiled a little wider.

"Okay. I'll see you in a few."

**Dylan**

When Fang landed on the ground, he stumbled awkwardly and curled his wings into his back. His hair was sticking out at a thousand odd angles, windblown. It looked like he had showered before he'd left and his hair hadn't been fully dry, causing it to look a little bit funny. "He's here!" shouted Nudge, practically flinging the door open and running out to him. Everyone else followed her, creating a circle around Fang, clinging to him and hugging him. I leaned against the doorframe and smiled.

I didn't see Max with the rest of the flock. "Max!" I shouted, hoping I'd yelled loud enough. "Fang's back!"

I waited a few seconds. No reply.

Curious, I strolled through the house, almost tripping on one of Angel's stuffed animals in the hallway. I stopped at Max's door and knocked. "Max?" All I got in reply was what sounded like a strangled sob. She was trying to say something, but I couldn't understand her. Worry filled my gut. "Max, what's wrong?" Another sob. "Max, I'm coming in."

The scene that was before me when I opened the door to Max's room was absolutely mortifying.

She was curled up in her bed, bawling her eyes out, a river of red flowing past her hands. "I'm sorry," she croaked, her voice raspy and her breathing uneven. Another sob escaped her. "Dylan, I'm so sorry." She was shaking.

I gulped, running to the bathroom and grabbing a towel. I rushed back into her room, closing the door and propping a chair up against it. "Max," I said calmly, pressing the towel to her raw forearms. It was hard not to squirm, what with all the blood. But I managed. "What are you doing?"

She shuddered, closing her eyes and gasping for breath. "I...just wanted it...to stop...didn't mean to cut...so deep." She practically convulsed with the way the next sob shook her. I forced myself to stay calm. I could not be angry, I could not be disgusted. I could not stress her out any more than she had already been stressed out. "Dont...know...what...I was thinking...can't just leave...my flock."

I held her face in one of my hands and kept the towel secured around her arms, brushing my thumb across her cheek. "Maximum Ride. You're stronger than this. You can make it through whatever's haunting you. Honey, you've got an entire life ahead of you. You're only seventeen. Things will get better. Can you explain to me why in the name of Charlie Sheen's prostitutes you would abuse yourself this way?" The strength in my voice shocked me. Here I was, holding a towel between my best friend's profusely bleeding arms, and my voice didn't so much as crack.

She took a deep breath and opened her sad brown eyes that used to smolder happily. Now they just looked plain, like mud. "Everyone else...is...so happy. But I'm...losing...everyone. Fang left. You almost left. Thought you hated...me." She gulped, sucking in another deep breath. "I didn't...mean to."

"Max, love, you might not have me or Fang anymore, but you've got the kids. Trust me, Maximum. It will get better with time. You've got to get out more and stop being holed up here. It's not healthy for you. Go see a movie by yourself or take Nudge or Angel with you. Hell, Max, take whoever you want with you. Just please...don't try this, not again. You're my best friend and I cannot afford to lose you. Now elevate your arms."

She nodded, lifting her arms up and lying on her back. A silence over the course of about six minutes ensued. "My arms are numb," Max said quietly after a while. I snapped out of whatever I was daydreaming. "Put them down and let me look."

She sat up and I helped her unwrap the towel from her arms. They were raw, the cuts wide and gaping. I gagged a little. "Oh my god, Max." Her sad eyes met mine.

"Go ahead, tell me how disgusting and pathetic I am. I'm weak, I know. I just couldn't take it anymore."

I shook my head, casting the towel aside. "No. You're one of the strongest people I know. You kind of have to be to deal with all of us birdkids freaks. It's just that...some days, we break. It's no big deal. It happens to everyone. This is just an obstacle you've got to overcome. And I know you can do it, Maximum. You're strong and capable."

She blushed, kissing my cheek. "Thank you, Dylan."

I shrugged. "Okay, now, I'm going to wrap your arms. Wear a long sleeved shirt or a sweatshirt so no one notices. This is going to stay between us, alright?" She nodded. I grabbed a roll of gauze from the nightstand where it was for emergency situations.

Max was silent as I wrapped her arms. When I was done, I hugged her tightly, crushing her to my chest. "You could have died today, Max. Don't ever scare me like that again."

She nodded, smiling the tiniest bit.

After she pulled on a sweatshirt, we headed out into the living room where the flock was lazing around. "Where's Fang?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gazzy answered me. "He's in his room. Probably waiting for you."

"He smells different, but in a good way. Did he start using cologne?" Iggy asked sarcastically, slinging an arm around Nudge as he sat down, sandwich in hand.

"I don't know, Iggy, did you just make yourself a sandwich?"

"...Yes."

"Then I suppose you've got your answer, huh?"

He grinned, taking another bite. Max quietly went and sat down next to Nudge and they began discussing who was hotter-Justin Bieber or Harry Styles. I blinked at them, shook my head, and turned around, going to Fang's room. I opened the door and there he was, sitting on the bed, with his laptop in front of him and a pair of glasses on.

"I didn't know you had glasses."

He looked up at me, smiled, and leapt off the bed, practically lunging at me and embracing me. "You were right," he said against my neck. "They didn't act weird."

I smiled, hugging him back and kissing his cheek. "I told you not to worry, babe."

He squeezed me tighter and kissed me on the mouth hard. It was an unspoken _I missed you_. I fell into the kiss immediately, closing the door behind me. My hands laced themselves into his soft, awkward-looking hair and his hands gripped my hips. We fell into the door, kissing fiercely.

His soft tongue flicked against my lips, making me groan. I opened my mouth and allowed his tongue to explore it as I did the same to him. He tasted like spearmint with just a hint of raspberries. My hands trailed down to his back right between his wings. I rubbed slow circles on his back as our tongues battled for dominance. He moaned loudly into my mouth, arching his body against mine. I groaned in return, one hand still rubbing circles on his back, the other creeping to the front of his jeans.

His hands were all over me, stroking my wings, yanking my hair, rubbing my chest. Right when I started rubbing his crotch, which was bulging impressively, he pulled his mouth away from mine, breathing heavily. "Dylan...," he moaned, bucking his hips involuntarily against my hand.

I bit my lip, ceasing the rubbing. "Fang?"

A low growl came from somewhere in his chest. "Why did you stop...?" He opened his eyes, which held mine, the intensity in them scorching me as if they were black flames. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, heavy.

Truthfully, I don't know why I stopped. I wanted him, more than I'd wanted anything in a long time. "Should I have kept on?" I asked teasingly, nipping his ear with my teeth. He moaned.

"I missed you...," he said. Clearly, I had stupefied him. "I missed you so much, Dylan..." He pulled me to the bed with him, placing his laptop on the bedside table. He then pinned me down so we were in the same position we'd been in the first time we'd kissed. "So much," he groaned, kissing my neck. The need was radiating off of him in rolls of steam.

Fang pressed his bulge against mine, purring quietly. Our hips grinded together and his hands were traveling down my chest. I loved him so much-

_Knock, knock._

"Yes?" I called out, my voice a few pitches higher than what was considered normal.

Max's voice came through the door. "Can I see him? I haven't even gotten a chance to since he arrived."

Fang rolled off me, disappointment flashing behind his smoldering eyes and quickly turning to excitement. He was the one who answered the door. Max looked at him, then at me, then back at him, her eyes lingering at his crotch. I felt myself blush. "Did I interrupt something?"

My boyfriend blanched for a split second and then regained his composure. He shook his head.

Max shrugged and entered the room, closing the door behind her. "Long time no see. You haven't changed," she noted with a smile.

Fang beamed at her. "I think I talk more now. Dylan never shuts up."

My face flushed more. "Hey!"

"Not that it's a bad thing," he added, winking at me. "Except he's not much of a talker in bed."

The atmosphere took an extremely awkward turn there. We'd both had sex with Max. And here Max was. And then there was Fang, making jokes about sleeping with me. It shouldn't have affected me as much as it did. I stiffened.

Max didn't seem to notice or care. "I'm sorry," she said to him.

He shrugged. "I got over it," he said, smiling imperceptibly.

Max smiled back. "Okay. Well, I'm going to go make the kids lunch. Ig's being lazy and won't do anything, so I'm left to my own devices."

"Stick with microwaveable mac 'n' cheese," Fang retorted as she walked out.

I let out a long breath.

Fang rolled onto his side, gazing at me, smiling like an idiot.

"I love you, Dylan," he said, gathering me into his arms.

"I love you, too, Fang."

* * *

><p><strong>Also, if you are a Mortal Instruments fan, check out my new Malec fic, please! :3 It's on my page. As always, R&amp;Rs appreciated, I LOVE YOU ALL! -throws brownies-<strong>


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